


In the Sin Bin

by otppurefuckingmagic



Series: In the Sin Bin [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: AU, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Agent!Magnus, Angst, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forced Closeting, HEA, Hockey, Homophobia, Love/Hate, M/M, Slow Burn, Smut, Sports, Sports God!Alec, WIP, side sizzy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 325,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6478579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otppurefuckingmagic/pseuds/otppurefuckingmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the goalie for the New York City Blazing Angels, Alec Lightwood thinks he's finally found the team he can go all the way to the championship cup with. Then his agent and financial advisor are arrested for stealing their clients' money, and Alec is forced to take on a side job doing endorsement deals, plus find a way to trust his new agent--Magnus Bane.</p><p>Alec hates Magnus the first time he sets eyes on him.</p><p>Magnus hates Alec more.</p><p>But they're going to have to find some way to work together if Alec is going to make it to the championship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [На скамейке штрафников / In the Sin Bin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813549) by [sakura_4an](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakura_4an/pseuds/sakura_4an)
  * Translation into Italiano available: [In the Sin Bin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251731) by [Katerina_Hummel_Di_Angelo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katerina_Hummel_Di_Angelo/pseuds/Katerina_Hummel_Di_Angelo)



> and so begins the shadowhunters hiatus *loud sobbing in the distance*
> 
> this is a wip. i have no idea how many chapters it will be, just that it will be a sllooowww burn with an eventual happy ending. for those of you who aren't hockey fans, the sin bin is the penalty box :)
> 
> nine months to the season two premiere and counting...
> 
> (an: this is shadowhunters universe (with direct lines from and allusions to the show), but with added characters and a definite au universe of its own. all credit to the talented writers of shadowhunters for their creation!)

“Only four minutes in the sin bin tonight, Wayland,” Alec shouted across the locker room to his best friend and teammate. “You’re slacking.”

Jace flipped him off and gave that All-Star grin that had all the puck bunnies falling at his feet. But that smile hadn’t had any effect on Alec for years now, and Jace knew it. Alec grinned and whipped his sweaty jersey into the clothes basket.

It had been an almost perfect game tonight, until Alec’d let a puck slip through his five hole in the last minutes of the third period. But the New York City Blazing Angels had won anyway, sliding past their division rivals to move one game closer to a playoff berth. The other players acknowledged Alec’s good work with slaps to the back and tipped up chins as they glanced his way. As a rule, the Angels weren’t on overly affectionate team, but they all respected each other in a way none of Alec’s other teams ever had. The Angels were the best team Alec had _ever_ played for. At the age of twenty-eight—and seven years since he’d gone pro—he was finally looking at a team he could go all the way to the championship cup with.

Alec accepted the quiet praise then concentrated on removing all his gear. As the goalie, he was covered in way more padding than any of the other players, and it took him twice as long to get undressed and into the showers. Which usually came with cold water, but the benefit of more privacy.

“Lightwood!” Coach Garroway bellowed from his office. “There’s a crying woman on my phone. Come in here and calm her down.”

There was a chorus of _oohhhs_ from the otherplayers.

“Who’d you dick and dump, Lightwood?” one of the other players cackled.

Alec gave an overblown fake laugh, but otherwise ignored the friendly taunts. He knew for a fact that whoever was on the other end of that line—if it _was_ a woman—wouldn’t be any of his one-night stands. He wanted to take a look at his cell to see if he had any missed calls—so he had some clue as to who was so desperate to reach him that she would call his Coach—but his cell was buried somewhere in his duffel and the longer he kept Coach Garroway waiting, the more wolfish he’d become.

He trudged into the Coach’s office, still wearing half of his gear. Garroway was focused on the paperwork in front of him, holding out a handset in Alec’s general direction. Alec heard sobs coming from the other end of the line. He recognized the squeak in between breaths immediately.

“What happened now, Clary?” Alec bit out. His agent Hodge Starkweather’s personal assistant rankled him—in some way or another—most days and her calling in hysterics didn’t help her cause. He didn’t deal well with tears, even if Clary was sort-of-family.

Clary sputtered. “Hodge was just arrested!”

Alec blanched and dropped onto the seat in front of Garroway’s desk. “What?”

“Hodge was arrested! The finance department discovered that he’s been working with Valentine over at Morgenstern & Morgenstern and they’ve been siphoning money from player’s accounts for years now and the police just came and arrested him and now”—Clary broke into ragged sobs again—“I’m not going to have a job!”

Alec gritted his teeth. “Clary. Get your shit together. I’m sure the agency will keep you on. I need you to tell me how much of my money may be on the line here.”

Coach Garroway’s head whipped up at that. He set his pen down, focusing on Alec.

“Oh,” Clary said, sniffling—as if she was just realizing that the world may not revolve around her problems. “I don’t know. The person from finance that I talked to said Hodge and Valentine had ripped off all their shared clients in some way or another. I didn’t think about you. Sorry.”

Alec put his head in his free hand. “I need to know how much, Clary.”

“Hang on.” More sniffling. “Let me pull up the spreadsheet finance sent over.” There was the sound of Clary typing at her keyboard then an audible intake of breath. “Oh, Alec.”

Alec grimaced, looked up and caught eyes with Garroway, who was frowning. Deeply.

“How bad is it?” Alec asked, every lingering ounce of joy from the team’s win leeching from his veins.

“They’re estimating somewhere around four million dollars.”

Alec’s head spun. _Four million dollars_. That number couldn’t be real. It was almost everything he’d saved over his entire career. His salary was good—about to get much better if the Angels made it to the championship—and he’d always been more of a saver than a spender. Compared to other players, Alec’s daily needs were small.

“Four million,” he choked out and Garroway winced. “Is it gone? Or do they think they’ll be able to get some of that back? I mean, he couldn’t have spent it all.”

“I don’t know. Oh, Alec. I’m so sorry.”

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, and swiped at his upper lip with shaking hands. “I’m going to need to make some calls now. You okay?”

“My shit has been gathered,” Clary replied, her tone resolute, even as Alec’s world was crumbling. “I’ll call your cell if I hear anything else.”

“And Clary?” he said, before she hung up. “Don’t call Simon yet.”

There was a beat of silence and Alec knew he was sunk.

****

“Meebs?” Clary said, as she knocked on Magnus’ open office door. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

Magnus’ head whipped up. “No. Absolutely not.” But it wasn’t his time or Clary’s he was dead set against.

Clary clicked a pen against the file folder in her hand as she entered. “Mags?”

Magnus shuddered. “No.”

Clary threw herself dramatically into the chair in front of his desk, legs sprawling over the arms, and Magnus knew this conversation was going to be a long haul. “Come on. I’ve known you for years now. You’re fun. I’m fun. We’re fun together. I should have a name for you that reflects….” Clary’s sentence dragged off into silence as she appeared to be searching for the right word.

“Fun?” Magnus tried.

“Yes! Fun!” Clary arched a sculpted eyebrow, and she leaned forward. “Maggie B?”

Magnus shivered as if someone had just spray-painted, then kicked over his gravestone. “Definitely not. Nicknames don’t work that way, biscuit.”

Clary pouted. “See? You have the cutest nickname ever for me.”

“You’re a cinnamon roll, darling,” Magnus said genuinely, earning a delighted upturn of Clary’s lips. “Now, you needed one second?”

“I may need more than that.”

Magnus feigned surprise. “I am shocked.”

Clary rolled her eyes and tossed the file folder onto his desk. “I’m sure you’ve heard about Hodge by now.”

“I did. I’m sorry, biscuit. You know I’ll be happy to help you find a new job.”

Clary stood and sat on the edge of Magnus’ desk. “Not needed. The agency is keeping me on…as your new personal assistant. If you read your email you’d know this already.”

“Email is so 1890s,” Magnus dismissed, scowling at his screen. He probably should check his email every now and then but he preferred to work face-to-face or by actually talking over the phone. While he had run across some of his clients on _other_ apps on his phone, he was always discreet enough not to connect in an unprofessional way. He gestured toward the hallway, the bracelets lining his wrists clinking. “Besides, angel, I already have tragic-homemade-sweater Kitty as my assistant.”

“Who you share with three other agents. I, however, will be all yours.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Don’t taunt an old man. It’s not nice.”

Clary reached across the desk and clamped a hand on Magnus’ shoulder, her infectious smile lighting up her face. “You’re only ten years older than me. And thirty-five has never looked more eighteen.”

“You’re hired.”

“Great.” She tapped a lacquered nail against the file folder. “But I come with a catch.”

Magnus sighed. “The hot ones always do.”

Clary’s lip twitched at the innuendo, but she continued undeterred. “They’re dividing up Hodge’s client list between other sports agents, and there’s one I begged to have you take on.”

“An athlete?” He left no question in his tone to how he felt about this. As an agent for IE, he dealt with performers and artists, not testosterone-soaked gym junkies. “I don’t rep neanderthals. I don’t even _do_ them. And you know how shallow my application process is.”

“Well, this one….” Her eyebrows furrowed, then she shook her head. “It’s not going to matter. I need you to take on Alec. He’s family. Kind of. And he got burned big time with Hodge. He has trust issues but he’s fiercely loyal, so he won’t leave the agency but he’ll be unhappy with any of the others. I know him. He just will. But you, Magnus…. You care about your clients. Just take him on temporarily. Meet him. I think the two of you may just hit it off.”

Clary slid the file across Magnus’ desk.

Magnus sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers together, refusing to touch the file.

“Please, Magnus. I promise you’ll love him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus and alec meet and it's hate at first sight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (day two of hiatus *incoherent sobbing*)

“I know you hate the entire idea of this, Alec,” Isabelle said in a gentle voice. It was her sisterly tone—meant to be soothing, but it wasn’t. At all. “I’m telling you, though. This endorsement is great visibility for you and for the team, plus it will pad your empty bank account fast.”

This scenario was exactly why Alec hadn’t wanted Clary to call Simon when Hodge was arrested. But Clary and Simon were best friends, and Simon was married to Alec’s sister Izzy, and they were all too intertwined for his own good. Especially when it came to anything that had to do with public relations and his PR-powerhouse sister Isabelle Lightwood.

Izzy set her hands on her hips. “You don’t want to have to move in with Jace do you?”

“We’ve been over this, Izzy,” Alec said, scowling at the makeup table and racks of fucking minuscule underwear the stylists were picking through. “I have enough money to keep my place for at least another month. Maybe two.”

Alec tried not to think about how that originally sickening amount of four million dollars had gotten so much worse in the last week, as forensic accountants scoured through player’s statements and discovered the depth of just how much Hodge and Valentine had stolen. They’d been cooking up fake balance statements to present to their clients for years. While Alec wasn’t the biggest victim, by far, he was pretty much living paycheck-to-paycheck, in a job where paychecks didn’t come on a biweekly basis. He wasn’t bankrupt, but if he wasn’t careful then he would be soon.

Which was how he’d found himself giving into the pressure his sister had been putting on him for the last two years to accept a few endorsement deals. To cash in on his good looks and charm, as Izzy put it.

Alec wasn’t feeling particularly charming today.

“With this contract we’ll be able to stretch that. You’ll get a nice check once this shoot is over, and I have a couple other possibilities that I’ve presented to your new agent.” Izzy tapped on the screen of her phone. “Speaking of. Clary is heading up with your new agent right now….” Izzy turned on her stiletto heel and faced Alec. “I need you to stay calm, Alec.”

Alec frowned. He was doing a lot of that lately. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Magnus is…unconventional.”

“You know him?”

Izzy shrugged. “He and his parties are legendary.”

Alec groaned. “Great.”

The elevator doors opened and Alec saw the burst of Clary’s red hair first. She flashed him a tight smile—as if she were nervous—and looked over her shoulder, talking to someone Alec couldn’t see yet.

“Be nice,” Izzy hissed, snapping into her professional persona and crossing her arms.

Alec’s eyes narrowed as he took in the man walking with Clary. The man was shorter than Alec, dark hair streaked with blue, and gold accessories piled on his ears, neck, wrists and fingers. Fingers that were tipped with fucking nail polish. And there were ruffles, and buttons, and this _shine_ to him, and…no. All kinds of _no_. Alec barked out a laugh as Clary and his new agent stopped in front of him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Clary blanched and the man’s lips pursed into a tight line.

Alec rounded on Izzy, his anger taking hold. “No one in the Angels’ front office will take me seriously if I walk in with _him_.”

“Well, aren’t you as delightful as Clary said you would be,” the man said with an air of confidence that was infuriating. “Alexander, I’m Magnus Bane.”

Alec clenched his jaw. He hated when anyone called him by his full name. “It’s Alec.”

Magnus ignored him. “Clary has brought me up to date on your current status with the team and I spoke with Imogen, the CEO of the agency, about your particulars. We shouldn’t have to do any negotiating in terms of your contract before the season ends. I have extensive experience in endorsement deals as well as media rights. I’ll be handling all of those on your behalf from here on out.”

“I have no say in this?” Alec bit out.

Clary jumped in. “It’s temporary, Alec. Three months. Then you can decide if you’re staying on with IE or not.”

“We hope you will,” Magnus replied, the sentiment laced with sharp edges. Magnus whisked a bottle of baby oil off the makeup table and tossed it at Alec. “Now, strip. You have a money-maker to shake.”

Alec gaped as Magnus turned with a flourish and plopped himself down on a couch, immediately pulling out his phone and pointedly ignoring Alec.

 

****

 

“ _I promise you’ll love him, Meebs. You’ll hit it off, Mags,_ ” Magnus seethed under his breath, glaring at Clary, who sat next to him on the couch. “You lied to me. I don’t think I’ve disliked anyone on first sight as much as that man.”

Clary wasn’t looking at him, though. She was tracking Alec as he paced around the room, her eyebrows stitched together as if in deep thought. “He usually isn’t this bad, Magnus. Really.”

“He’s a stereotypical jock,” Magnus dismissed, glancing up as Alec started to undress. Magnus frowned at the bulging, cut muscles revealed as each layer of clothing disappeared. Well, weren’t those just _stereotypical_ , too?

Clary shifted, facing Magnus, and set her hand on his forearm. “You have to give him a shot.”

Magnus leveled another glare in her direction. “I’d rather ask Camille to move back in with me than spend another minute with him.”

Clary winced. “Alec needs you, Magnus. Whether he realizes it or not. Izzy agrees with me, and you know she’s one of the best in her business. We have faith in you, even if Alec doesn’t…for now.”

Magnus sighed, going back to scrolling needlessly through his phone. “I won’t back out of this assignment. The bonus Imogen is giving me for negotiating his image rights is obscene. But like him, I will not.”

“Shit, you went Yoda. This is bad.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clary patted his arm. “Continue ranting.”

Magnus shook his head. “I won’t smear my Dior Lip Glow by speaking more about his offending presence. I have an image to uphold.”

Clary smirked. “That’s the Magnus I _j’adore_.”

“Cosmetic puns. I approve, biscuit.” Magnus couldn’t help but smile. Clary had that affect on him. But Magnus’ smile was wiped away a second later as he listened to Alec barking at the makeup team in a gruff voice.

“I _won’t_ like him, Clary—I promise you that. But I will help him. It’s the tightest of assholes that need a firm, experienced hand to coax them open.”

Clary’s responding laugh filled the room and warmed Magnus’ heart.

 

****

 

Alec gritted his teeth when he heard Clary laughing from the other side of the room. He was half-naked already, a team of makeup artists and stylists circled around him discussing his body as if he wasn’t even in the room. It was dehumanizing and not at all how he wanted to be spending his day, but he had no choice.

He spun the bottle of baby oil in his hands and set it back on the table, grimacing as he glanced again in Magnus’ direction. It was obvious to him that Magnus wasn’t straight—obvious to anyone who laid eyes on him—and the realization that Magnus was now officially tied to him made Alec squirm with discomfort.

The hockey league was more accepting of LGBTQ people than any other professional sports league in the world, but that was a PR front more than a creed the players lived by. There were no out players in the league. None. And Alec wouldn’t be their first. He’d been able to avoid suspicion for seven years—hiding his one-night stands, refusing to get into any kind of relationship besides the fake PR girlfriend kind (usually facilitated by the ever-helpful, but-hopeful-he’d-change-his-mind-someday Izzy)—and having Magnus as his new agent would bring attention to Alec that he didn’t want.

The _wrong_ kind of attention was all Alec seemed to be drawing these days, though, when all he wanted to be known for was being a good player.

Alec sucked in a breath, shifted on his feet, then Izzy’s hands were on his, stilling him.

“You’re doing that thing with your left hand,” Izzy murmured, so the stylists crowding around him wouldn’t overhear.

Alec dropped his hands to his sides, balling them into fists and trying to ignore the numb spot in his left hand that he rubbed when he was nervous or overthinking something. Izzy knew where Alec had gotten that injury. She knew too much about him.

“Are we doing this or not?” he barked out.

The crew jumped and Izzy shook her head and walked away.

He knew he was being a dick, and he also knew that no one in this room deserved the fallout of the nuclear bomb that was his current life. But he didn’t know how to rein his anger back in. He’d done everything his coaches had expected of him—his entire life—and just when he was beginning to see the results of years of hard work, his success was being ripped away without his choice. His choices weren’t even _his_ anymore. Not really. If he'd had any choice of how to spend today—four days before the Angels’ went on an extended road trip that would be the deciding factor in their playoff spot—he’d have been on the ice with Jace.

He’d rather have pucks flying at his face than the makeup brushes that were currently being wielded in his direction.

“Yes, are we doing this or not? I have much more interesting places to be,” Magnus yelled from the other side of the room. But when Alec whipped his head around to respond with a biting remark, he realized Magnus wasn’t talking to him.

Magnus stood and enveloped a tiny woman with short, wispy dark hair in his arms. The woman’s smile was bright, and kind, and she kissed Magnus on both his cheeks before responding in a quiet voice so Alec couldn’t hear what she was saying. But the warmth on Magnus’ face was obvious. A slinking loathing cut through Alec’s veins at the sight. Magnus had been nothing but dismissive and callous with him from the start. Magnus could fuck off as far as Alec was concerned.

“That’s your photographer—Aline,” Izzy said as she stepped up next to him again.

Alec made a non-committal noise.

He could see out of the corner of his eye that Izzy was studying him, but he didn’t look her way. He was too busy imagining how satisfying it would be to see Jace shoot a line of pucks at Magnus’ too-pretty face.

Izzy sighed. “Magnus knows everyone, Alec. He’s going to be good for you. Trust me.”

Alec sneered and didn’t reply. He went back to rubbing at the numb spot on his left hand.

He’d handled worse.

He could handle Magnus Bane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic. come survive the hiatus with me over there! thank you for all the comments and kudos so early on!! this is going to be fun :) ♡ xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus and alec spend some personal time together, it doesn't go well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day three of hiatus *shakes fists at the heavens WHY GOD WHHHHYYYY*
> 
> okay, so it's time to intro the angst. we all knew it was coming, right? longest chapter so far!

“How bad was it?” Simon asked, popping a sliced pepper in his mouth, leaning over his counter to talk to Alec.

“On a scale of one to ten?” Alec shuddered, remembering just how long he’d spent in the shower today to get all that shine off his skin. “Off the charts bad.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Izzy said as she removed the lasagna Simon had made from the oven. “He looked gorgeous. Had this whole scowl thing going on that was very bad boy. This campaign will go viral. I can feel it.”

“That scowl was genuine, Izzy.”

“And it made your eyes simply light up. Don’t lie to me. I know that you feel better now that you got all that anger out of your system _and_ earned a paycheck.”

Alec tried to pretend like she was wrong, but he couldn’t. The shoot had given him a chance to be an asshole all day—because that darkness was what Aline had been looking for—and he’d been paid insanely well for one days work. He grinned. “Yeah, I do.”

Izzy patted his cheek. “There’s that smile I love.”

“And you met Magnus today, right?” Simon asked as he finished off the salad with a light coating of dressing.

Izzy groaned, shooting a look in Alec’s direction. “And there goes the smile that I love.”

Sure enough, just the mention of his new agent’s name was enough to have Alec frowning again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I thought everyone loved Magnus!” Simon exclaimed. “He’s so sparkly and exciting. Like a lit-up ferris wheel at nighttime propelled by rockets.”

Alec tipped his head studying Simon, then looked to Izzy. “Some day you have to explain to me how he managed to make you fall in love with him.”

Simon grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m irresistible, really.”

Alec shook his head. “I don’t see it.”

“He is completely irresistible,” Izzy confirmed, planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek.

Alec rolled his eyes as if he wished he were somewhere else, but really, Izzy and Simon were ridiculously in love and it was…sweet. Their apartment was a second home for him and he was happy his sister had found someone who adored her the way she deserved. He picked at the salad and steered the topic back to what had been grating at him all day. “So let’s get this over with. Magnus Bane. Tell me everything you know. Since it looks like I have no choice but to work with this…guy until the end of the season. I’m planning on making it to the championship instead of being knocked out early, so that will be three months. I need to know as much as I can, without having to talk to him. If that’s possible.”

“There’s a saying about curiosity and murdered kittens,” Izzy chided him.

Alec barked out a laugh. “Overdramatic much, Izzy?”

Simon shook his head. “She’s right. Maybe it’s better if you go into this blind. I’ve only ever the met him a handful of times when he’s been out with Clary, but I get the feeling he doesn’t really conform to any pattern.”

“I told you, _mi hermano_. He’s unconventional.”

Simon waved a spoon in his wife’s direction. “That. I get why he and Alec don’t gel.”

Alec had to hear this. “You do, huh?”

“Well, yeah. Magnus is all”—Simon made a _KRRRPWOWOOWW_ sound and flung his hands around—“and you’re all”—Simon frowned and slumped his shoulders forward while saying _meep meep_. Alec stifled a smile at Simon’s description of him. “It’s the meeting of two fundamentally opposable elements, and there are, like, thousands of comics written about why that’s a bad idea. It’s an actual trope-thing in fiction.” Izzy eyed Simon dubiously. But Simon was undeterred. “What? It’s definitely a thing.”

Izzy shook her head fondly. “You’re such a dork.”

Simon beamed at Izzy. “I love you too.”

“So Magnus…?” Alec tried again.

“You can Google search him if you’re that interested, Alec,” Izzy said. “But I’m not going to the be the one you base your opinion on. I told you to trust me and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“I don’t like him,” Alec reminded her. For what had to be the tenth time today.

Izzy nodded. “I think we got that.”

“He’s going to be bad for my image.”

“Heard you the first time you said that today,” she huffed.

Alec sighed, giving in. “And I need to trust you.”

“Knew you’d come around, big brother.”

There was a knock at the door.

“That must be Clary,” Izzy said. “Can you let her in, Alec?”

Alec stood, heading for the door. “You invited her?”

“When has she ever _not_ been invited to a Lightwood-Lewis Kosher Kitchen night?” Simon replied.

Alec grinned, opening the door as he looked to Simon over his shoulder, “Is there a way to get me uninvited?”

But Simon’s mouth was frozen in a shocked o-shape and Izzy was biting her lip, eyes focused over his shoulder…. And Alec’s smile faltered, died, when he turned to face the hallway and took in Clary…with Magnus standing next to her.

 

****

 

Magnus did his best not to grimace when he saw Alec. He failed and rounded on Clary. “You lied to me. Again!”

“I didn’t,” Clary insisted. “This _is_ Simon’s apartment.”

Simon peeked his head out from behind Alec’s shoulders, and twirled his fingers. “Hey, Magnus.”

Magnus brushed past Alec without acknowledging him. “Hello, Spencer.”

“It’s Simon.”

Clary smiled and hugged Simon. “He knows.”

Magnus made his way to Izzy, grasping her on the shoulders and kissing both her cheeks. This Lightwood he liked. “I didn’t get a chance to give you the greeting you deserved this morning.”

The door slammed shut, sending the apartment floor shaking, and Magnus turned to find Alec staring at them with his eyebrow arched. “You two know each other?”

“I told you we did,” Izzy replied with complete calm in the face of her brother’s mini-tantrum. “He throws great parties.”

Magnus slipped an arm around Izzy’s waist. “And you know how to dance.”

Izzy grinned at him, then glanced at her husband. “It was before we even started dating, Simon. And it was never like _that_. We see each other professionally every now-and-then still.”

Simon shrugged and Alec did this squinty-eyed thing that made Izzy dissolve into peals of laughter. “Everyone take a seat. I’ll grab a bottle of wine. Simon? Will you help me bring the dishes in?”

Clary went to the far side of the modern dining room table and Magnus pulled her chair out for her, then took the seat next to her. Alec remained hovering near the door, his gaze flicking between the kitchen—where Simon and Izzy were—and Clary, but he never made direct eye contact with Magnus. Magnus was more than fine with pretending the eldest Lightwood wasn’t in the room either.

“Sit down, Alec,” Clary insisted, humor in her voice. “He won’t bite.”

Magnus smirked and Alec caught eyes with him.

“Don’t,” Alec said to Magnus, sternly.

Magnus feigned ignorance to the comeback that was most definitely about to come out of his lips before Alec spoke. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Clary cleared her throat to stifle a laugh.

Alec finally moved, taking the seat at the opposite head of the table from where Magnus sat. Getting as far away from Magnus as he possibly could. Magnus would’ve been offended, but keeping all of that raging testosterone out of his breathing range made for better air quality.

Izzy carried in a bottle and glasses, setting them on the table and filling them, making no comment on the seating arrangement, but a definite small smile on her lips when she glanced at Magnus. Simon followed with arms full of serving dishes, refusing Izzy’s help. Izzy kissed him on the cheek and took a seat the head of the table, next to Magnus.

“I don’t want to talk business all night,” she said as she arranged her napkin on her lap. “But did you get that proposal I sent over?”

Magnus was okay with talking business, especially with someone as competent and intelligent as Izzy. “I did, sunshine—”

Alec made a choking noise. Izzy raised her eyes, smirked at her brother, and refocused on Magnus.

Magnus inhaled deeply, gripped his knife tighter to keep himself from whipping it in a specific direction and continued, “I think Gallant Group _is_ our best bet. Large enough to pay out, diverse enough to have multiple opportunities, but not so large as to not have leverage.”

Izzy took a sip of her wine, considering this. “I agree. Now. Let’s eat.”

Simon served Izzy first, earning a blinding smile from his wife, then tried to pass the plate to Alec, but ended up dropping a bevy of vegetables off the edge when he couldn’t bridge the massive distance Alec had created by sitting at the far end. Alec frowned (Magnus was beginning to think this was Alec’s permanent facial expression), scooped food on his plate and had the same issue when he tried to pass it on to Clary.

Clary yanked the dish out of his hands. “This is ridiculous, Alec. Sit next to Simon.”

Alec stopped with his fork partway to his mouth. “Can’t. Need room to stretch my legs. Some of us have feet that touch the floor.”

Clary stuck her tongue out at Alec, and he did the same back—an actual smile breaking through until he saw Magnus watching him. Alec schooled his features again and went back to eating, shoveling the contents down in record-breaking time that made Magnus’ stomach churn a bit.

Alec set his napkin on his plate, then stood, heading for the kitchen. “Well, this has been…fun but Lydia’s picking me up soon. We have some club opening to go to.”

The words were out of Magnus’ mouth before he remembered he wasn’t supposed to directly acknowledge the ice king’s presence. “Pandemonium?”

Alec stopped mid-step and looked over his shoulder. “Um, yes?”

“I got an invitation as well.” Magnus dabbed his lips with his napkin. “Thinking I’ll skip it, though.”

Alec’s eyes hardened. “A bit too straight for your tastes?”

Magnus chuckled uneasily. So Alec was going _there_. “I couldn’t draw perpendicular lines if I tried.”

“Surprise!” Alec said, waving his plate around, spilling food to the floor. His jaw ticked as he locked eyes with Magnus. “Says no one ever when they meet you.”

Magnus sneered, tipping his chin down and refusing to back down from Alec’s challenge. “I’m not ashamed of who I am.”

“You know what?” Alec tossed his plate on the kitchen counter and faced the table, pointing a meaty finger in Magnus’ direction. “Get bent.”

“Oh, I think I’m already there, honey—”

Clary jumped to her feet, setting her palms on the table. “Enough, you two! Izzy, this is your house not mine, so I don’t want to cross any lines….”

Izzy was the vision of a woman in control. She met Clary’s anxiety with a placid command of her every word. “What? They’re just talking.”

Magnus lifted a brow and studied Izzy. She was up to something.

Alec ripped his jacket off a hook by the door. “Fuck this. I’m out.”

“Alec—” Magnus grabbed Clary and she yelped as Magnus dragged her into her seat again. It was clear to him now that Izzy had an agenda for this evening that he hadn’t been briefed on, but Clary had.

“ _Adiós_ , big brother,” Izzy replied in the same, even tone. “Tell Lydia hi from me.”

Simon was frozen in place with food plopping from his fork onto his plate, and his mouth half-open when the door slammed shut behind Alec. “Can someone tell me what just happened?”

Izzy set her napkin on her lap again and picked up her wine glass. “Look, Magnus. My brother isn’t the asshole he’s being right now.”

Magnus clinked his ring against his glass as he studied her. “I keep hearing that, but all evidence is to the contrary. And I’m quite sure now that there’s something to do with your dear brother that you, biscuit, and Stefan haven’t told me. A reason for you wanting me to see Alexander outside of his professional duties, perhaps?”

Both Simon and Clary opened their mouths to speak and Izzy silenced them just by lifting one finger. “Simon. Clary. Don’t. Magnus has to get to know Alec himself.”

Magnus considered this. He had a good idea what Izzy was not-so-subtly hinting at. And—he hadn’t thought it was possible, but…—the thought made him even angrier at Alec. “And what a joy that will apparently be.”

Izzy leaned in. “I need you to see this temporary contract through, Magnus. And to do that you don’t have to like him, but you have to understand where he’s coming from.”

Magnus nodded. He didn’t like the circumstances he would be working under, but he was a professional. He dealt with sensitive divas all day. Alec may have been the most sensitive out of all of them, but he was nothing Magnus couldn’t handle. “I fully intend to, Isabelle.”

“Good.”

Simon’s fork finally made it’s way into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. “You know, my band is playing a gig on Saturday. Maybe you could come by. Alec is going to be there since it’s the last night before he heads out on the road. If you have to find a way to get to know each other, it’ll be loud and with a lot of other people so you won’t be forced to talk much.”

“Ah,” Magnus took a sip of his wine. “So he can silently judge me in close proximity.”

Clary shook her head. “He’s not—” Izzy glared at Clary, and Clary snapped her mouth shut. She took a deep breath. “Got it. Shutting it down. You should come Magnus. It _is_ a party.”

Magnus smiled at her. “You know all my weak spots, darling.”

Clary’s features softened, and that mischievous glint came back to her eyes. “Not _all_ of them.”

“And let’s keep it that way, biscuit. Now, let’s finish this lovely dinner.”

Izzy clinked her glass against Magnus’, looking way too satisfied at the evening’s dramatically-eventful events.

He and the devious, little Lightwood were going to need to have a private conversation soon.

 

****

 

Alec took a deep swig out of his rocks glass and winced.

“You’re hitting that whiskey pretty hard, Lightwood,” Lydia said across from him.

“Today was a nightmare,” he admitted. He set his glass on the table and surveyed the undulating bodies on the club dance floor. He knew how to dance—courtesy of his sister—but he rarely gave in to the urge.

“How about tonight?”

For a second Alec wondered if he’d said something out loud about dancing, but he caught the thread of their conversation again quickly when he remembered that Lydia would want to dance with him as much he would with her. The whiskey was burning a pleasant path down his throat, Lydia looked gorgeous, and he wasn’t anywhere near Magnus Bane…. He tried to give her a genuine smile, because her presence _was_ making tonight easier.

“Getting better,” he answered honestly.

“Good,” Lydia said. She reached out and settled her hand on his. “Now smile. There’s a couple a few tables away that look like they’re trying to take pics of us.”

Alec resisted glancing over his shoulder. “Doing the fake selfie thing?”

Lydia giggled. “For sure.”

“Kiss needed?”

“Not tonight.”

Alec hummed and took another drink. “I thought Jace was meeting us here?”

“The Angels’ living legend has been here for the last hour. Didn’t you see the stampede that nearly happened at the VIP entrance?”

Alec just shook his head fondly. Jace created chaos wherever he went. “Come on. Let’s go sit with him.”

Alec took Lydia by the hand and led her around the dance floor, pushing through the crowd toward the VIP rooms. He was stopped at the entrance by a gaggle of fans in tight dresses whose heads snapped up when he said his name. Alec politely signed a few pairs of boobs with sharpies offered to him with glossed nails, and made sure the bouncer at the entrance knew to let Lydia in when she was pulled aside by friends.

Jace stood and wrapped him in a tight hug when Alec found his booth. “Where the hell have you been, buddy? This place is amazing.”

“Don’t get too drunk, Jace,” Alec said as he settled into the velvet cushions. “It’s you and me on the ice tomorrow.”

Jace scoffed. “Even a hangover can’t slow me down.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Lydia here with you?”

“She stopped at the front to talk to some friends.”

Jace slicked his hair out of his eyes and turned to Alec. “So how’s that whole thing going?”

“Good. She’s…nice. Just as nice as she was in college.”

“Good,” Jace replied, his mismatched eyes landing on Alec’s, serious for once. “The last one was all out for the fame.”

Alec forced a laugh and took a swig from his glass. “You would know.”

Jace leaned in. “Anything else? You know, on the side?”

Nothing. _Nada_. A hoser, in hockey slang. No matter what language he used his love life was non-existent. It had been months since he’d even bothered to find a one-nighter. It all seemed like more work than it was worth at this point.

“Nah. Hockey is my first love, you know that.”

“Remind me to never touch your goalie mitt,” Jace taunted and Alec had to smile.

Lydia appeared with a waitress in tow. She grinned at them and hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “More drinks?”

Jace slapped Alec’s thigh. “Definitely more drinks.”

 

****

 

Everything in Alec’s vision was blurry, slanted to the left. Off-kilter.

_Not straight._

Alec cackled at the thought, and Lydia patted his chest, holding him up so he could get his key in his front door.

“Thanks for going out with me,” he tried to say, his tongue thick.

Lydia didn’t answer him. She pushed the door open and helped him over to the couch, dropping him down. Alec closed his eyes and let his head fall back. The room was beginning to spin, and his limbs were mush, but feeling this out of sorts—disconnected from every thought that tried to fight it’s way through his muddled brain—was good. He needed to forget.

There was movement next to him and a cold glass was pressed into his hand. “Drink some water. You’ll thank me for that in the morning.”

He gulped down the cool liquid and resettled himself against the arm of the couch, facing Lydia. She had her legs tucked under her, arm draped across the back and was watching him carefully.

Alec swallowed. “What’s that look for?”

“I have to tell you something. But I don’t know if you’ll remember it in the morning if I do.”

“Is it something I’ll want to remember?”

She pursed her lips. “Probably not.”

Alec set the water glass on the coffee table and sat up. He rubbed at his eyes and faced her. “Then go for it.”

“Raj called me.”

Alec’s stomach lurched and his fingers immediately went to that numb spot, working at it to ease the sudden ache. “And?”

“He’s getting married.”

Alec shifted away from her, planting his feet on the floor, trying to find something steady. Any kind of unshakeable piece would be good right now. He set his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, running his palms over his hair. When his erratic heartbeat was under control again, he caught eyes with Lydia. “I’m assuming from your tone that it’s to a woman.”

Lydia nodded.

Alec huffed. “That’ll be a disaster.”

“Promise me you’ll never go there, Alec,” Lydia said in a quiet, but stern voice. “Hockey isn’t worth it. I know you love it, but you’re going to have way more years off the ice than you’ll have on it.”

Alec stared at that spot on his left hand, at his thumb digging into the muscle trying to work some kind of feeling into that spot again. He shook his hand out and slumped into the cushions. “I may need a successful wife to help me pay my bills. You looking?”

“No.” She inched over, pressing against his side and resting her head on his shoulder. “You’ll get through this, Lightwood. I know you will.”

Alec closed his eyes and grasped her hand.

He wished he could be as certain as she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you SO MUCH for all the kudos and comments. i'm having so much fun with this. hope you are too :)) join me on tumblr if you want to talk!! @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus visits alec at work. things go about as smoothly as you'd expect...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day five of the shadowhunters hiatus *sad panda face*
> 
> this is the chapter where the "now kiss" meme would be particularly appropriate. but yeah...that's not happening quite yet. i promise they'll be happy soon-ish!

“Heads up, Lightwood. Coming your way,” Jace called out from the blue line.

Santiago and Pangborn were tussling in the corner, fighting for control of the puck, and Alec was watching Santiago carefully. Santiago was on the attack, and it hadn’t taken long for Alec—let alone other teams—to figure out that Raphael was compact but lightning quick.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alec could see Jace setting himself up to clear the puck away if Pangborn got a stick on it. “The point of practice is that they’re supposed to surprise me, Jace. So I don’t know when the puck is coming at me.”

“Just helping you out, brother,” Jace said with a laugh. “You’ve been off your game the last few days.”

Alec’s head snapped up. “I’ve what?”

The puck screamed past Alec’s head and whizzed into the back of the net.

Jace made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Just like that.”

“That’s how it’s done,” Santiago taunted as he skated by. “Captain is right, Lightwood. I haven’t gotten a shot like that past you all year.”

“Lightwood!” Coach Garroway bellowed from the bench. “Get off my ice.”

Alec pushed from his crouch stance, pulling off his glove and flipping his mask up. “Shit.”

Garroway was barking orders at Jace and the other players when Alec skated up and stepped through the bench door. But Alec knew Garroway well enough by now to understand Coach ignoring him was a very bad sign.

Kadir, the athletic trainer for the Angels, met Alec at the door. “You need ice for that knee?”

“My knee is fine,” Alec snapped. He dropped onto the bench, removing his mask, then motioned for the bag.”Yeah, give it to me.”

Kadir knelt in front of him, extending Alec’s leg out to check his range of motion.

“It’s fine, really,” Alec mumbled, but Kadir ignored him, pressing an ice pack to Alec’s knee.

The screech of a whistle echoed through the arena as Garroway called for a break and Alec took a swig of water from the bottle at his side, mentally preparing himself for a verbal beatdown. One he deserved. When the ice was clear, and the clatter of skates was retreating to the locker room, Garroway dismissed Kadir and leaned against the boards. He looked calm. Way too calm.

“Listen, Coach—” Alec started, but Garroway cut him off.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.”

Alec licked his lips and swiped the sweat off his brow, nodding.

“Drank too much last night? Got girl problems? I know you’ve been dealing with unnecessary shit off the ice, but you are abso-fucking-lutely _not_ allowed to bring any of your problems in here. You worried about your bank balance and want to get paid? Do your job better than everyone else. Find a way to shut the noise out, we need you to be impenetrable.”

“Got it, Coach.”

Garroway crouched down, getting in Alec’s face, and Alec would’ve sworn that his eyes were lit up from the fires of hell themselves. “Do you?”

Alec didn’t dare look away. “Yes. I’ve got it, Coach.”

Garroway leaned back, his jaw ticking. “No distractions, Lightwood. Wayland may be your captain, but you’re the pin that keeps this grenade locked down. I better not see one puck get past you this afternoon. Now go eat.”

Alec sucked in a breath between his teeth and headed for the locker room.

 

****

 

“Hey, Magnus!”

Magnus turned on his heel, coming to a stop in the—what he had thought was empty—hallway leading into the arena.

“Sheldon,” he replied brightly. “What are you doing here?”

Simon’s shoulders slumped. “It’s Sim— Whatever. Not important. I, uh, work here.”

Magnus’ eyebrows shot up at that. “Do you now?”

“I run the zamboni after practices.” Simon pushed his glasses up and grinned. “Izzy helped set me up with this. It works with my irregular schedule because of the band, and, uh, all of…that.”

“Fascinating,” he said. And really, he was fascinated by the idea of Simon the lead singer of an indie rock band who zamboni’d on the side, and the stunning wife Isabelle who dominated the public relations stratosphere in New York City. But the look on Simon’s face told Magnus that Simon thought he was teasing him. Magnus didn’t have the time or patience right now to suss out how to soothe the indie-rocker-ice-smoother, though. Instead he tilted his head toward the ice. “Are they still practicing?”

Simon glanced at his watch. “Should be done anytime now. I was just heading down. You need help finding Alec?”

“I’m just following the chill.” He waved his hands, a pair of Marc Jacobs fingerless gloves shielding his wrists from the cold. “Guessing it will lead me straight to the frigid yeti I’m in search of.”

Simon shifted nervously from foot-to-foot. “Look, about Alec—”

“Let me guess,” Magnus interrupted. “Alec is a good person at heart and he’s going through tough times and I need to be a bit less pitbull and more pussycat?”

“No,” Simon shook his head. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

Magnus crossed his arms. “You’ve sunk your hook into me. Go ahead.”

“You’ve got a job to do and from what I hear you’re exceptional at it. Izzy is right that you need to know who he is in order to advocate for him the best way. But I don’t think you’re going to learn anything about Alec directly from him. It took him years to open up to me. So under threat of death-by-Izzy, let me give you hint. Alec _is_ a good guy, but he’s also stubborn and incredibly frustrating. It’s like he’s missing this filter in his brain that should be telling him when to shut up or when not to say exactly what he’s thinking….” Simon stopped and took a breath. “He and I may have that in common.”

Magnus just smirked.

“But the difference between Alec and I,” Simon continued, “is that he can’t even lie to _himself_. I live in a near-permanent state of denial, but Alec doesn’t. It creates this chaos between his head and his heart that trips him up.”

Magnus adjusted the line of silver rings settled above his knuckles, pretending not to be fascinated by this topic too. Simon had a lot to say—so many, _many_ words—but there was an openness to him that Magnus appreciated. “So the gender-swapped Elsa does have a heart?”

Simon chuckled. “Pretty sure he does.”

“I like you, Simon,” he admitted. “You are intriguing.”

Simon’s face lit up. “Same! But I’ve got to—”

“Go,” Magnus finished for him, gesturing Simon away. “There are delicate hockey players who need their ankles protected.”

Simon walked backwards, waving. “I’ll see you around, Magnus.”

Magnus twirled his fingers in Simon’s general direction and marched toward the ice. The inside of the arena was lit up and some horrid, cacophonous music was blaring out of the speakers. There was a tall man hunkered down in front of the net—whom Magnus had to assume was his client—with a semi-circle of players fanned out in front of him, slapping pucks in Alec’s direction in quick succession. Alec’s movements to stop the onslaught were smooth and efficient—deflecting every shot that came at him.

As he got closer to the ice, Magnus could hear the slap of puck against glove and against Alec’s gear when he used his body to block the net. Magnus winced when a puck slammed into the cage around Alec’s face. Magnus was all for hard things coming at—or on—his face, but not like this. Why anyone would subject themselves to such torture willingly was beyond him.

He descended the arena steps to the glass that separated the spectators from the players and tapped on the glass.

A muscular man in an Angels’ jacket rotated around at the sound and glared at Magnus, his frown deepening as he took in Magnus’ decidedly non-athletic ensemble.

“Coach Garroway?” Magnus said through the glass. “I’m Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood’s new agent.”

Coach Garroway’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Come around to the player’s entrance at C116. I’ll let security know to let you in.”

Magnus nodded and trudged up the steps again, finding the sign for the player’s entrance after a bit of wandering. By the time he made it back to the ice—this time emerging through the player’s entrance—the music had been cut off and the player’s were all circled around the bench, leaning on sticks or fiddling with their gloves and helmets, as they listened to Garroway speak.

Magnus’ appearance didn’t go unnoticed, though.

There were whispers, slaps and nudges—pointing people in his direction—and one outright laugh. It wasn’t anything Magnus wasn’t used to already. He crossed his arms, glared back at all the smirking faces, and sought out Alec in the crowd.

Despite how far he was trying to slink into the another player’s back, Magnus didn’t have any trouble spotting the human icicle. Magnus met Alec’s eyes, unflinching, and waited for Coach Garroway to finish.

Simon was already on the ice, at the controls of the zamboni, and he waved at Magnus, a smile breaking out on his face. Magnus’ lip twitched and he raised a hand in acknowledgement, earning more confused stares from the players.

“Practice again at eight am tomorrow. See you then,” Coach Garroway said, dismissing the players. He peered over his shoulder at Magnus. “Lightwood, you’ve got a guest.”

Alec was already red and sweaty from the practice, but his face flamed further when others looked between him and Magnus. He sneered and stayed where he was on the ice as the other players filed past Magnus down the tunnel to the locker room.

Magnus waited for the bench area to clear, then stepped through the gate onto the ice. He tracked Simon’s slow progress across the ice, using the seconds to reach Alec to think of a way to open this conversation that didn’t initiate conflict from the start. But the sheer disgust that Alec had on his face as Magnus walked toward him was more than enough to provoke Magnus.

He eyed Alec. “Flushed and with a sheen of sweat. There are other activities much more enjoyable that would give you the same result.”

Alec’s jaw clenched. “What do you want?”

“What? We’re just talking, “ Magnus said, mimicking Izzy’s statement from last night. He kicked at the ice. “Chill.”

Alec did that squint with his left eye and crossed his arms. “You may have just rolled out of someone else’s bed, but I’ve already had a long day. Just tell me what you want.”

Magnus smoothed down the lapels of his jacket, affronted. He hadn’t just rolled out of bed—his own bed, for the record—and it had taken him hours to craft this day’s particular image. Something the disheveled jock in front of him—with a mussed, cheap haircut and more than a few days worth of stubble—obviously didn’t care about.

“Um, guys?” Simon called out. “I need to get the ice there. Like, right where you’re standing.”

Alec skated backwards, heading farther onto the ice instead of toward the bench. His eyebrow arched as he moved deeper into what was decidedly his territory and not Magnus’.

So this was how it was going to be. Magnus followed, paying close attention to each step so he didn’t falter, meeting Alec at the center of the rink.

“How was Pandemonium?” Magnus asked, pointedly ignoring Alec’s desire to get to business.

“Fine. Lydia and I had a good time.”

Alec put emphasis on the woman’s name, drawing attention to it. If Magnus’ intuition was correct—and he always went with his gut—then every mention of a woman’s name, coupled with Alec’s, was meant to craft Alec’s own image.

Magnus used makeup, designer outfits and accessories to portray who he was to the world. Alec used women. To hide. Magnus’ discomfort heightened.

“Playing house,” Magnus chided. “How quaint.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed, his voice going into a near growl. “You don’t know me or Lydia. So back the fuck off.”

“Hey, um, Alec? Magnus? I need to….” Simon waved a hand in their direction.

Magnus side-stepped out of Simon’s way and Alec followed him, encroaching on Magnus’ personal space this time. “Just so we’re really fucking clear on this—I don’t like you.”

Magnus leaned forward, putting their faces only inches apart. “My cuckoo is tapping at the same clock, sweetheart.”

Alec’s eyes darted over Magnus’ face. “What does that even mean?”

“Am I being too coy?” Magnus tipped his head and sneered. “I don’t like you either, Alexander. In fact, I think you may be at the top of the list of people I hate and that alone is worthy of note. It’s an achievement to make it there.”

“Alec. My name is _Alec_ ,” he spit out. He huffed and took a step back, glancing at the empty tunnel leading to the locker room. “Just tell me why the fuck you’re here.”

Magnus crossed his arms and relented. “I have a meeting set with Gallant Group for tomorrow and they want you to attend as well.”

Alec’s mouth gaped and he sputtered, anger sharpening his features. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“I prefer to work this way with my clients. See them in their…natural habitat.”

There was a cough that sounded suspiciously like laughter and Magnus turned to find Simon wheeling by on the zamboni, his eyes locked forward but a restrained smile on his lips.

“You’re a fucking piece of work,” Alec scoffed, ignoring Simon.

“Glad you finally recognize the masterpiece in front of you,” Magnus retorted.

“Are we done?”

“Have a good day, Alexander,” Magnus said, turning to the exit.

“Text me the next time, Bane,” Alec called out. “Having you here— You’re not worth the trouble.”

Magnus clamped his teeth on his lips to hold back a scathing reply. Walking away was his only choice.

Or he'd slam a fist into Alec’s scruffy face and mar Simon’s pristine ice with blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love reading all your comments. thank you!! i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus comes to a conclusion on how to handle alec. alec changes his mind on how to handle magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day six of shadowhunters hiatus and tomorrow is tuesday. i miss shadowhunters tuesday *le sigh*
> 
> this chapter can pretty much be summed up as "one step forward and two steps back." they will like each other eventually, i swear...

Magnus jolted awake from the fists banging on his apartment door.

He tumbled out of bed and directly on Chairman Meow’s tail, earning a deep scratch across his ankles for the misstep. He winced and limped his way to the door, throwing the lock and opening it.

Ragnor had his fist up to hit the door again and nearly jabbed Magnus in the eye when the door was suddenly open. Magnus dodged the accidental punch and glared at his two best friends in the world. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I told you he forgot,” Ragnor muttered to Catarina.

“It’s your morning for breakfast,” Catarina reminded him. “But I knew you’d probably forget—as usual—so I picked up pastries on the way here.”

Magnus surveyed the tray of coffees in Ragnor’s hand, and the bursting bags in Catarina’s and sighed. He stepped out of the way and gestured for them to come inside. “Remind me why we can’t do this at a restaurant.”

Catarina kissed him on the cheek. “Because I always end up overtipping to make up for Ragnor’s prickly nature.”

“I’m not prickly,” Ragnor insisted, in a very prickly voice.

“You are,” Magnus and Catarina answered at the same time.

Ragnor frowned at that.

“Make yourself at home,” Magnus said. “Let me brush my teeth at least.”

When he emerged from the bathroom—breath fresh, face washed, and dressed in the low-slung jeans and tight tees he preferred outside work—Catarina had everything spread out on the table and Ragnor had his feet up on one of the other chairs as he scrolled through his phone.

Magnus swiped the cell out of Ragnor’s hands and set it face down on the table. “The reason we do this is to talk.”

“You were primping, not talking.”

“Well, I’m here now.” Magnus held out his hand. “Caffeinate me.”

Catarina pushed a cup into his hand and took the seat next to him, filling plates that she passed on to Ragnor and him. Magnus loved everything about her.

“So let’s talk,” she said. “How are things going with your new client?”

Magnus stopped with the croissant half-way to his mouth. “I’m going to murder him before the contract is up.”

Ragnor snatched Magnus’ cup from where it sat and peered at the label. “I don’t remember ordering melodrama with the vanilla flavoring this morning.”

Magnus stole his cup back and gulped down as much coffee as he could without singeing his throat. “You think you’re funny. Spoiler alert: you’re not.”

“Who is this new client?”

“A hockey player for the Angels,” was all Magnus had to say.

Ragnor shook his head and gave a loud snort.

“He can’t be that bad,” Catarina tried.

“He can and he is. He’s a closeted hockey player who hates the sight of me.”

“I’ve never understood the term ‘closeted,’” Ragnor said around bites of his scone. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes and studied Ragnor. “It makes perfect sense. As much sense as a word can possibly make.”

“It doesn’t,” Ragnor insisted.

Magnus let that go. “Anyway, I hate the sight of him too. But his contract is going to make me a sum of money that will make my personal shopper a wealthy woman as well. I just have to get through three months without choking him.”

Ragnor threw his head back and laughed. “For fucks sake, Magnus, you’re going to fall in love with him. I can already see it.”

Magnus blanched. The thought of being involved with anyone like Alec—let alone Alec himself—made Magnus’ skin crawl. “I don’t think you’re listening to what I’m saying….”

“Bla, bla, bla,” Ragnor intoned. “He’s boorish and rude and physically fit and—”

Catarina’s eyes were dancing with mirth. “And a challenge. You are motivated by a challenge, Magnus.”

“I hate both of you too,” Magnus answered without any heat behind it. He slumped against the back of his chair, frowning. “But not nearly as much as him.” He clenched his jaw and spoke through his teeth. “I loathe him.”

The room went quiet.

Ragnor settled his feet on the floor and leaned forward, his eyes locked to Magnus’. “Wait. You’re serious aren’t you?”

“Magnus,” Catarina said in a quiet voice. “You have your walls and your bravado, but you don’t actually hate _anyone_.”

Magnus pursed his lips. “There’s a list. It’s a short one, but it exists.”

Ragnor poked at Catarina’s arm. “Don’t forget Camille.”

“She deserves to _be_ the list,” Catarina allowed.

“The way he looks at me….” Magnus hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to say. But these were his friends. He trusted them enough for him to be truthful. “He makes me think of ugly things. Makes me feel shame that I’m long past. I can’t condone behavior like his in today’s world. Things are different now. You’re older than I am, Ragnor. You know.”

That earned a slight smile from his friend. “Thank you for pointing out how ancient I am, Magnus.”

Catarina sat forward. “Are you sure you’ve read him right?”

Her eyes were kind and the hands circled around her cup were used to heal. She was too good for this world. Too good to be one of Magnus’ friends, let alone a mutual favorite.

Magnus patted her hand. “I’ve met men like him too many times not to recognize the mask he wears.”

“You know that usually comes from self-loathing,” she pointed out.

The thought made Magnus uncomfortable, so he pushed it away. He sat tall in his chair. “I don’t have time to psychoanalyze or fix him—he’s my client. My job is to make him money and in the process make myself more money. I can do that and not like him. In fact, I think it may be a stronger partnership, because I won’t let any feelings of friendship or sympathy take over during negotiations.”

Ragnor smirked. “You are going to be ruthless. Any chance you can tape this for me?”

 

****

 

Alec sat in front of Magnus’ office fiddling with his tie, adjusting the knot to make sure it sat in the right place. He wore suits often enough—before games and for charity events usually—but picking out his clothes this morning had involved Izzy showing up at six am to ensure that what he chose showed off his physique as well. _Displaying the merchandise_ , was the phrase she’d used. It was as if every success he’d had in life had been turned on its head to become torture devices, personalized to him, in the last few days.

But early morning wardrobe sessions and whether or not his biceps looked massive enough—Izzy’s main concern—weren't what he was most worried about today. He was positive that he was walking into this meeting only to be ridiculed. He _needed_ this deal to go through. Yet he could be eliminated from any serious negotiating position because of Magnus Bane.

“You look nice, Alec,” Clary whispered from behind her desk.

Alec gave her a small smile and began to twist his cufflinks, his anxiety amping up. He scowled. “Is Bane here?”

Clary nodded. “He’s meeting with Mrs. Herondale right now. She wanted to hear how he managed to secure a meeting with Gallant Group.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Magnus. And Gallant. It’s kind of a big deal.”

He moved from the waiting area couch to a seat in front of Clary’s desk, his interest getting the better of him. “Why? Aren’t they a company you usually work with?”

“No one at IE has been able to break through there. Gallant is huge and opening up negotiations with them will impact every agent here.” She shook her head and smiled fondly. “I still don’t know how Magnus managed it.”

Alec stilled, trying to process this new piece of information—that didn’t reconcile with anything he thought he knew about Magnus—when he heard the decisive clicking of heels approaching. He glanced up to find Imogen Herondale cutting through the sea of cubicles to the edges of the floor where the private offices were located, with Magnus at her side.

Magnus looked…different today. His suit still had a shine to it, but it was classic, tailored. His hair was styled instead of loose, slicked away from his face. His eyes were smudged with a hint of kohl and his lips had no gloss, just a natural pinkness—

That was a detail Alec wasn’t noticing. He just wasn’t.

He glowered and stood as Imogen glided over to him.

“Alec,” Imogen welcomed. She outstretched her arms and Alec leaned down to kiss both her cheeks. “I trust Magnus is handling you well?”

Alec cleared his throat, glancing over her shoulder. Magnus was tight-lipped. Silent. “We’ll see how today goes.”

“We will indeed,” she said.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Herondale and Mr. Bane,” Clary cut in. “The contingent from Gallant is at the main desk.”

Magnus nodded to Clary with an air of professionalism Alec would’ve sworn a man like Magnus wasn’t capable of. “Please see them up. Alec, if you’ll follow me? We have a conference room booked on the top floor.”

 Alec followed Magnus, noting that the way Magnus moved had shifted subtly from the last time he'd seen him. This was a man in his domain. A man in charge. Realizing that he could recognize that change in Magnus was…infuriating. Alec furrowed his brow.

Imogen fell in step with Alec as they walked to the elevators. “So I hear this may be the year the Angels bring the cup back to New York.”

Alec ripped his gaze away from his study of Magnus and glanced at her, holding the elevator door so she could step inside. “I try not to talk about it.”

“Superstition and sports,” she scoffed and entered.

Magnus was in front of the button panel, Imogen slid into position at the center facing the doors and Alec went to her left, leaning casually against the wall, even though he felt anything but relaxed. Alec took a deep breath as the elevator swished into motion, swiftly taking them to the top floor. Each second of continued quiet ate at Alec’s nerves.

“Are you joining us in the meeting, Imogen?” Alec asked to break the silence.

“No. I trust Magnus has this deal in hand. I want to say hello then I'll leave you to it.”

Alec found his gaze wandering to Magnus again, trying to see him the way other people did. Clary adored him. Izzy insisted Magnus would be good for him. Imogen Herondale, the owner and CEO of one the biggest entertainment agencies in the world, trusted him enough to lead a meeting with a game-changing client—on his own. But Alec couldn’t trust him….

Could he?

“I hope to see you again soon,” Imogen said when the doors opened.

He tried to push thoughts of Magnus aside, leaning down to kiss her cheek again. “Likewise.”

“This way, Alec,” Magnus offered, sweeping his hand to the right.

Alec paused before he stepped into the hallway, the words catching in his throat—feeling foreign, but necessary—before he got them out. “Thank you.”

Magnus simply gave him a clipped nod in response.

Alec's frown deepened.

This was the most civil he and Magnus had been to each other since they’d met, yet something about this interaction was off. Magnus wasn't glaring at him or challenging him or having _any_ kind of reaction to Alec. Magnus was detached, dispassionate. This was exactly the type of relationship Alec had been hoping for with a new agent, but with Magnus it felt _wrong_.

Alec’s thoughts began to swirl out of control, and he swore he could still feel the rushed ascent of the elevator below his feet. He was worried about his role today. Scared of fucking this opportunity up. Getting a contract from Gallant would make the difference between him fighting through financial issues for the remainder of the season or being able to focus solely on his game. This negotiation was _exactly_ why he needed an agent, and he couldn’t trust Magnus, he tried to tell himself. He didn’t even _like_ him—

“Alec?” Magnus said.

Alec snapped back to the present, eyes meeting Magnus’, and he must have looked as frightened as he felt in that moment, because something made Magnus’ features soften.

“We’re this way,” Magnus repeated.

Alec nodded and felt the edges of his sudden panic blurring, fading…because of the quiet confidence Magnus radiated. _No_ , he thought. It couldn’t be this man pulling Alec back to solid ground. It couldn’t.

He _hated_ Magnus.

Alec scrubbed a hand over his freshly shaved chin and stared at Magnus, trying to decipher how he really felt. Magnus tipped his head, narrowed his eyes, and opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then abruptly turned on his heel without saying another word.

“Shit.” Alec found his feet again and followed Magnus into the glass-walled conference room.

“Take the seat at the head of the table,” Magnus instructed, his lips drawn into a thin line again. He removed the chair at the other end and motioned for one of the assistants to wheel it out of the room. “You just have to sit there and look the part. There won't be much you have to say.”

The same assistant came back a minute later, pushing in a cart with glass bottles of water and earthen cups that matched the rustic yet refined decor of IE's international headquarters. Magnus thanked the assistant and went to setting the cups on the table, leaving a bottle of water next to each. But when he got to Alec’s spot he unscrewed the lid on the bottle and filled the cup, sliding it over to Alec.

Alec took a deep drink. He didn't know what to say or how he was supposed to talk to Magnus when he wasn't yelling at him. “You look, uh, different today.”

“Now is not the time, Alexander,” Magnus snapped.

Alec’s face flamed but he managed to nod and shut up.

Magnus flexed his ringless fingers, cracking his knuckles, then sighed and took the seat next to Alec. He tipped his head in the direction of the elevator bank, where Imogen had lingered to greet the Gallant group.

“That’s Lazlo coming through the elevator now,” Magnus said. “He’s their head of endorsements. The man behind him is Tomas—their in-house lawyer. Lazlo enjoys skiing and frequent visits to his mistress. Tomas prefers honey in his tea instead of sugar and has an awful taste in shoes but a flawless one in art.”

Alec spared a glance at the two men, then refocused on Magnus. “How do you know all this?”

“It's my job to know,” Magnus said simply. He arched an eyebrow. “The shoe thing, though? That one is just obvious.”

Before Alec could fully process that he was smiling at something _Magnus Bane_ had said, Magnus tipped his chin in the direction of the woman speaking with Imogen. “And that is Dorothea Rollins, the chief marketing officer for Gallant. You don't need to know anything about her. Like you, she won't have much to say at this meeting.”

Alec took another drink. He had one part to play in this meeting, he could do this. And he was beginning to think that maybe Magnus did have this whole thing under control. He eased back in his chair. “Is it normal for a CMO to be at one of these meetings?”

Magnus smirked at that. “No. It’s not.”

The team entered the conference room and Alec stood as introductions were made, noting the way Magnus greeted the men with graciousness but undeniable authority. He was slightly warmer with Dorothea, but the difference was so subtle Alec didn’t know if he’d imagined it.

With the formalities over, Lazlo huffed into his seat. “Let’s get started then. We’ve seen the cost-benefit analysis and market reports you sent over, Magnus. Is there anything you’d like to add to it at this point?”

“What I sent over is more than adequate for a first conversation,” Magnus said coolly.

Lazlo leaned back in his chair. Eyeing Alec. Checking out the “merchandise.” Alec barely restrained a shudder.

“Frankly,” Lazlo said, his gaze sliding back to Magnus, “I simply don’t see the value in someone who’s just a goalie to our brand.”

“And the sum you’re seeking is outrageous,” Tomas added.

On the other side of the table from her employees, next to Magnus, Dorothea didn’t appear to be paying attention to anything being said. She was scrawling something into her cell with a stylus.

“Then why come here at all, Lazlo?” Magnus asked.

“Professional courtesy?”

Magnus narrowed his eyes, the kohl amping the intensity of their gold-green color. “Try again.”

“Of course we’re interested in Mr. Lightwood, but we can’t pay you what you’re asking for.”

Magnus waved a hand in the air. “Tell me what you can offer then.”

Lazlo leaned forward at this. “Half your proposed amount with additional restrictions on future image rights and approval over any further endorsement deals offered to Mr. Lightwood by other companies.”

Magnus barked out a laugh that had everyone turning in his direction besides Dorothea. “I’m sorry. Was I not supposed to laugh there? I thought we’d entered the comedic portion of the evening.”

Lazlo’s face went red. “I don’t think you understand what you’re negotiating here—”

“I don’t think _you_ understand what you’re negotiating here,” Magnus interrupted without a beat of hesitation. “Alec Lightwood’s name is already in the press—as a sympathetic victim of fraud instead of an entitled, wife-beating, untouchable god of sports. He comes from roots that resonate with middle america, and has an image that ties back to the wholesomeness of home and family, yet let’s your older female demographic swoon. Men pay millions a year to look like him, and regardless that they never will, they will continue shelling out that money seeking a hint of what his body looks like. The Blazing Angels—beloved in this city and across the country—are on every commentators list to win the championship this year. Alec will be out of your price range in less than three months. We are only taking on two select endorsements, one of which has already been contracted and shot, with four other meetings today. Alec doesn’t need you—you need him. But as his agent, I’m inclined to advise him that a partnership that doesn’t value his worth as a whole isn’t the best fit.”

Alec had to rein in his shock at how persuasive Magnus was. How aggressive. He looked to Lazlo to see his reaction and the man’s lips were moving as if he was trying to form a coherent reply but couldn’t. Alec let a slow smile go.

“And let’s not forget,” Magnus continued, “with Alec you also get the benefit of opening communication channels with other Angels’ players. Something you haven’t achieved on your own, Lazlo. But, as you said, he is just a goalie.” Magnus held Lazlo’s gaze for a beat of silence, then looked at his watch. “Well, look at that. It’s time for you to go.”

“It’s what?” Lazlo sputtered.

Magnus stood, smoothing his jacket. “I’ll have my assistant see you out. Thank you for your time. You know where to leave a message if there’s any other business we have to discuss. But, at this time, we don’t.”

Alec stumbled to his feet, feeling as surprised at the abrupt ending as Lazlo and Tomas looked.

But Magnus wore his smile with ease, taking Dorothea’s hands between his when she stood. “It’s been lovely seeing you again, Dot. Please give my best to Jerry.”

“I will.” The Gallant CMO patted Magnus on the arm. “And I’ll be in touch soon.”

Magnus didn’t follow Lazlo, Tomas and Dorothea out, and Alec remained where he was—frozen to the spot. The group was met at the elevator by Clary, who shot a bewildered expression at Alec. Alec could only shrug.

Alec stuffed his hands in his pockets and faced Magnus. “That was…not what I expected.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Magnus replied, his tone just as cold as it had been with Lazlo.

“It was,” Alec said sincerely. He tracked Magnus’ refined movements around the conference room as he cleared the table. “What if they start calling around? To verify what you told them?”

“It’s all true.”

“I’m _wholesome_?” Alec challenged.

Magnus filled a cup with water, took a drink and faced Alec. “That is the image you’re going for, right? A finely-crafted facade that placates those with fragile sensibilities?”

Alec’s heart thudded in his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m quite sure you do.”

There was only one thing Magnus could be alluding to, and years of denial and lies made Alec’s self-preservation instinct kick in without thought. His throat had gone dry, but he could hear the venom in his reply. “How did you know? Did Izzy—”

Magnus cut him off. “Despite what you may think, your sister is a professional. Neither Clary nor Simon said anything either. Your deeply seated self-hatred is masked quite well—if one doesn’t scratch too far past the surface. And it appears as if you invite very few close enough to get a hint of what desires lie beneath.”

Alec seethed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know painfully well what I’m talking about. But that doesn’t matter. You’re the one in the closet, and it looks like you are more than happy to stay there. So as your agent, it is my job to secure contracts based on the image you can live with, that will make you the most money.”

Alec stammered, struggling to reply. He wanted to answer honestly and tell Magnus that he wasn’t okay with this. That this wasn’t the life he wanted at all, and he didn’t know how to escape this prison he’d built for himself. He knew now that Magnus wasn’t simply competent, he was gifted at this job, and that if Alec could find a way to trust him then they could make this partnership work….

But the restrained fury in Magnus’ clenched jaw made Alec stop cold.

It didn’t matter what he thought of Magnus.

Magnus hated him.

Alec pulled his shoulders back, meeting Magnus’ unflinching stare. “It’s all about the money, right?”

Magnus gave a dark laugh and turned his back on Alec. “Apparently it is. Clary will show you out. I’ll be in touch when I hear from Gallant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is going to be an emotional one for me to write, so it will either pour from my brain into the keyboard or take a few days for me to get through... *fingers crossed* i'll update sooner rather than later.
> 
> in the meantime, i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic. thank you so much for keeping me company during the hiatus!! ♡ xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything changes for magnus and alec...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (day eight of the shadowhunters hiatus *swears profusely* i may have spent last night rewatching episodes 12 and 13 for the 23847938 time. don't judge me.)
> 
> ok, so this chapter.... it's the longest by far (almost 6k) and i thought about splitting it, but it's just too important as a whole. i don't know what else to say about it before you read it... yeah. so here we go...
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of a car accident and physical injuries

“So how did it go?” Clary grilled him the second the elevator doors shut.

Alec gritted his teeth, trying to rein in his anger. He couldn’t even look at her. “How did Magnus know I’m gay?”

“I didn’t tell him!”

He took a deep breath and leveled her with a look that made her take a step back. “Izzy?”

“No way.” Clary shook her head adamantly. “She’s the one who made me swear I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Simon,” Alec grit out.

“Not him either. He would’ve called me to confess if he broke down and said something. So Magnus knows?”

Alec scrubbed his hands over his face. How the fuck had Magnus known? Was he really that obvious? “Apparently I’m not very good at hiding my deepest desires.”

“He didn’t say that,” Clary insisted.

“And he doesn’t have any problem keeping my closet intact as long as he’s getting paid.”

Clary crossed her arms. “I get the feeling you’re paraphrasing.”

Alec stormed out of the elevator when the doors opened. “What the hell do you know, Clary?”

“I know Magnus as well as I know you,” Clary said as she followed on his heels. For being so short, she was too damn fast. “He’s not in this job for the money.”

Alec pushed through the front doors and into the sunshine. “Everyone works because of money, Clary.”

Clary yanked on his sleeve, bringing them to a stop on the steps. “Fine. You can choose to be jaded about this, but you of all people know that money isn’t what motivates everyone.”

“I _don’t_ know that anymore. I just attended a meeting where I used my physical appearance to get paid.”

“Alec. Come here.” She took Alec’s hand and led him over to a bench. He sat down with a huff, looking at the mass of people on the sidewalk but not really seeing any of them.

“Look at me, Alec. You’re being paid for being good at a sport you love. Being ridiculously attractive helps, I’m not going to lie. But it’s not the only reason why these companies want you to endorse their products.”

Alec huffed out a laugh, despite his shit mood. Clary had a way of doing that to him. He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Ridiculously attractive?”

“You are a tree I wouldn’t bother trying to climb. Because you’re too close to the ground…. Leaning. Like, not straight.”

“Way to see that metaphor all the way to it’s terrible end,” he retorted.

Clary rolled her eyes and scooted closer to him, grasping his hand. “Now tell me, how did it go? It was over so fast!”

Alec blew out a long breath. He was still processing everything that had happened. “Magnus was…intimidating. I’ve never seen anything like it. He dismissed them. Telling them that they didn’t have anything further to discuss when they didn’t accept his terms.”

“Holy shit.”

Alec’s lips quirked into a smile. “He was brilliant. And I’m going to have to tell Izzy that she was right. You know how much I hate doing that.”

“Magnus is brilliant, isn’t he? I don’t know how he can switch between different aspects of his personality so quickly.”

Alec’s shoulders slumped as he remembered how he and Magnus had ended the meeting. “Well one aspect of his personality is static. He hates me.”

“He doesn’t.”

“I’m very sure he does.”

“Why? What did he say?”

Alec met Clary’s eyes. He knew she would see right through him, but he needed someone to see his hurt right now. To recognize that he wasn’t the fake persona that he put on like a second skin every day. “He hates me because he’s not hiding and I am.”

Clary’s features softened. Her eyes were sad. “But did you tell him that’s not the way you want it to be?”

“He wouldn’t want to hear it even if I did.” Alec flinched. His voice sounded bitter even to his own ears. He let go of her hand and stood. “Shit, Clary. _This_ is why I didn’t want to take on any advertising deals. Now I’m going to be roped into all of these clauses about how I live my life. My personal life isn’t personal anymore. I can be who I am behind closed doors, but not in public. I’m never going to have the choice to be…open.”

“What Hodge did to you, Alec…. You didn’t have a choice.”

Alec fumed. “So now he’s fucking up my life even from behind bars.”

“Yes, he is,” Clary nodded, and her voice was rough. “And it’s not fair. But most of these contracts run one to two years, and by then you’ll have a championship ring on your finger—maybe two—and you can tell them all to fuck off. It’s temporary, Alec.”

“Shhhh,” Alec chastised her softly, smiling. “We don’t talk about rings or championships.”

“You’ll be with Izzy tonight, right? That will be good.”

Alec sank down next to her again. “If I can deal with her gloating.”

“She’s proud of you, Alec. All of who you are. She’s your biggest advocate and you can’t fault her for being happy that something has gone well for you. If Magnus was as effective as you say, I don’t think you’ll be waiting long to hear on Gallant.”

“As much as I don’t want it, I really want it.”

Clary nodded. “I know you do. Life—”

Alec interrupted her. “It sucks and then you die. Yeah, I know.”

“I was going to say it’s full of mysteries.” Clary bumped her shoulder against Alec’s. “Two kinds of people.”

Alec circled his arms around her. They didn't always get along, but he loved Clary. She was one of his best friends and it was because of moments like this—where she made him see that life didn’t have to be as disastrous as he envisioned. “Text me if you hear anything, okay? And have fun with Simon tonight.”

Clary returned the hug, resting her cheek on Alec’s chest. “You too, Alec. Give my love to everyone.”

 

****

 

Magnus set the handset of his office phone back on the cradle and grinned.

Four hours.

It had taken only four hours for Gallant to cough up another thirty percent and forego the endorsements approval clause in exchange for two year exclusivity in their product lines. It was the biggest contract Magnus had ever landed, and one that would open doors for all his colleagues. Magnus had finally made his mark on IE and it was one that would have ripple effects for years to come.

It was the professional equivalent of giving a prostate pounding that left your partner deliciously sore and weak in the knees for days afterwards. The overly competent lover who was never forgotten. Magnus had never been more proud.

He stood, whipped his coat off the rack and descended on Clary’s desk in a flurry of bliss. “It’s time for cocktails, biscuit!”

Clary didn’t look up from her screen. “Can’t. Simon is coming over tonight. We have a…thing.”

“A thing?”

Clary shook her head, still pattering away on her keyboard. “Long story.”

“My dearest sweet cinnamon roll, I don’t think you’re hearing me. I. Need. To. Celebrate.”

Clary’s eyes tracked away from her screen slowly, a smile inching up her lips as she locked gazes with him. “No. Magnus. Really? Gallant came through?”

“Of course they did,” Magnus scoffed, even though he’d grown less and less sure of his bad cop negotiating tactic as the day had worn on.

Clary jumped up and wrapped him in a ferocious hug. “That’s amazing! We definitely need drinks. Why don’t you come over to my place? Fully stocked bar courtesy of me, and fully stocked refrigerator courtesy of my mom.”

“And fully stocked sarcasm courtesy of Shaun,” Magnus noted.

Clary laughed. “Stop it. Simon thinks you don’t like him when you pretend not to know his name.”

“I like Stanley just fine.”

Clary beamed at that. It wasn’t difficult to make her smile, but nothing seemed to make her happier than when all of the people she loved got along.

“I’ll get my coat. Let’s go.”

Magnus unlocked his cell. “We’ll Uber it to your place instead of the subway. My treat. Can’t have my queen mingling with the peasants now.”

Clary giggled all the way to the elevator.

 

****

 

“This is much better than going out,” Magus said, tucking his feet under the chenille blanket Clary had placed over him. He took a sip of his wine and snuggled in deeper to the couch. His suit be damned. It was going to be wrecked with wrinkles and unsightly folds when he emerged from his blanket cocoon, but that’s what a good dry cleaner was for. He’d been freezing when they got to Clary’s walk-up apartment in a suspect part of town, and her lack of a reliable heating source had only chilled him more. But she had plied him with wine and soft blankets and now he was cozy and warm. He was going to have to give her a raise. “When did I get old enough that a dark, noisy bar is no longer a magical place of endless possibilities?”

“It’s a sure sign that middle age is creeping in. Next comes the gray hairs.”

“I'll look even more dignified with silver streaks at my temple,” Magnus protested.

Clary patted his leg. “Sure, babes. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, guys,” Simon said, walking through Clary’s front door without a knock.

“Hey, Simon,” Clary called out over her shoulder. “We’re marathoning the classic seasons of America’s Next Top Model. Join us.”

“Where’s your beautiful wife?” Magnus asked.

Simon dropped a duffel bag at his feet, and went to sit on the arm of the couch next to Clary. “You didn’t tell him?”

Clary bit at her lip. “No, but we can if you want.”

Simon dropped his chin down, his voice going into a near-whisper. “He knows?”

“I told you he would,” Clary whispered back adamantly. “He _knows_.”

Simon frowned. “How bad was it?”

“I don’t know,” she said, exasperated. “You’ll have to ask him—”

“While I enjoy puzzles every now and then…,” Magnus interrupted. Clary and Simon stopped talking, looking at him as if they’d forgotten he was in the room at all. “I’m lying. I don’t enjoy puzzles at all. And code breaking is not on my list of strengths. For the benefit of the third wheel in our currently wobbly tricycle, can we please start speaking in full sentences?”

Simon gave him a once over, then pushed his glasses up his nose. “Are you wearing a suit?”

“It’s cold in here and Clary’s yoga pants end at my calves. I make a point not to show any leg until summer.”

Simon clicked his tongue with distaste. “I don’t know if I like this look on you, Magnus.”

Clary whacked him on the stomach with her free hand and he cried out in surprise.

“What? That was a complete sentence.”

“He looks fabulous,” Clary insisted. “This is what success looks like.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Magnus,” Simon backtracked. “You do look fabulous, but also really imposing, and this look is so…bland. It’s not _you_. Take it off. It’s creeping me out.”

Magnus stood, unbuttoning his jacket and Simon’s eyes went wide as he continued to mutter.

“I know I said you look fabulous but you don’t have to undress for me….”

Magnus rolled his eyes.

“I don’t really swing that way. Although I guess I could given the right circumstances….”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow and shrugged the jacket off his shoulders.

“But I’m in a very committed relationship. Taking that whole until-death thing to heart and all.”

Magnus pulled his jacket all the way off, revealing the gold dragons with crimson and purple flames that arced over the shoulders and down the arms of the shirt, but were well-hidden below the jacket he’d chosen this morning. “Is this too bland for you, Seamus?”

Simon broke out into a wide smile. “Wow! It’s so sparkly. Wait? Did you just call me Seamus. Shit, he’s mad at me. Was it the compliments? Too strong?” Simon rounded on Clary, pointing at her. “Don’t tell Izzy this conversation ever happened.”

Clary smirked.

Simon threw his head back and groaned. “You’re so going to tell her.”

Magnus rolled up his sleeves, getting comfortable, and snuggled into his blanket again. “You were saying something about your wife and where she is or is not tonight?”

“Right, Izzy. My wife who I’m totally, one hundred percent straight for is—“ Simon glanced between Magnus and Clary. “I don’t know where to start.”

Clary scrunched up her brow. “The whole story?”

“Is this a story that’s going to get you into trouble by telling me?” Magnus asked.

Simon shook his head. “Our only ban was on telling you Alec is gay.”

“Ah, so now that I know I can know.”

“Exactly.”

Magnus shrugged and took a sip of his wine. “I don’t know if I care anymore where Izzy is.”

“Which means now he’s really interested,” Clary interpreted.

“Short version,” Simon said, “Izzy’s with Alec tonight. It’s their younger brother’s birthday.”

Magnus sat up. “I wasn’t aware there was another Lightwood.”

“Figured you probably weren’t,” Clary said. She clicked off the TV and faced Magnus. “Max was an _oops_ baby. Alec was nine when Max was born.”

“A good oops or a bad oops for the Lightwood parents?”

“That’s debatable,” Clary answered. “Robert and Maryse Lightwood are a whole other story. For Alec and Izzy, though? Max was never anything bad.”

“And the long version?”

Clary hedged for a moment. “This isn’t a happy story, Magnus.”

Magnus felt immediately uncomfortable. He may not have liked Alec but he knew well that there were some stories that belonged solely to the people who had lived through them. “Is this something I should hear from Alec himself?”

“He won’t tell it to you,” Simon said. “I’ve only ever heard it from Izzy.”

“I don’t think this is something I should hear,” Magnus insisted.

“Honestly, Magnus?” Clary said. “I think maybe you should.”

“I think so too,” Simon added. “Considering….”

Clary nodded her agreement.

Magnus shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

“You know Alec is gay,” Clary said. “But you don’t know why he ended up hiding that for so many years.”

Simon set his hand on Clary’s shoulder. “Izzy thought you already knew and that’s why you were keeping Alec’s contract despite your rocky start. She’d be okay with us telling you. Then she doesn’t have to relive it all. It’s hard…for both of them.”

“All right,” Magnus relented. They knew the Lightwood family better than he did. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll grab another bottle of wine,” Simon offered. “You start, Clary.”

Clary rearranged herself on the couch with her back against the arm rest and her toes poking under Magnus’ blanket. She took a deep breath. “So ten years ago, Alec was finishing up his freshman year of college. Max had gone to a pick-up game with Alec and some of his friends on a Friday night, and after the game, instead of driving Max home Alec wanted to go out with his boyfriend Raj, another player on the team.”

“Neither one of them were out,” Simon added, from the kitchen. “So they only saw each other when they could get off campus.”

“One of the assistant coaches offered to drive Max home,” Clary continued. “This guy was a family friend who’d been with Alec through years of hockey leagues, so there wasn’t any question in Alec’s mind when he offered. Alec and Raj got in Alec’s car and Max got into this coach’s car and they drove away. Alec was a few cars behind them on this main road approaching the intersection where the coach would take a left to take Max home and Alec and Raj would continue on for whatever it is they were going….” Clary furrowed her brow. “I don’t know if I ever got that part of the story.”

“Me either,” Simon confirmed.

“Anyway, the coach got in the lane to turn left and Alec saw the flashers signaling an oncoming train and he expected the coach to wait, but he didn’t stop. Alec saw the train and he saw Max in that backseat and the car wasn’t braking _or_ speeding up and Alec watched—” Clary sucked in a breath, tears gathering in her eyes. “Alec watched as the train slammed into the car and sent it flying.”

Magnus’ stomach sank, twisting painfully. He set his glass down on the coffee table. He scooted forward and grasped on to Clary’s shaking hands. He knew where this story was likely heading. “You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to, biscuit.”

Clary held onto him tightly. “No, it’s okay. Simon hadn’t started dating Izzy then, so we didn’t live through this— _they_ did. I don’t know how—” Clary cut herself off. She swiped a tear away from her cheek and gripped his hand again, steeling herself. “Izzy said the wreckage was brutal. But Alec…he didn’t think about the risk to his life. He sprinted out of his car to get to Max, calling for Raj’s help, but Raj was frozen. Kept yelling at Alec about being found out….”

Simon moved Magnus’ glass aside, set down the bottle of wine and sat down on the coffee table. His jaw was clenched, and there was a fire behind him eyes that Magnus had never seen in him before. “Then Raj bolted, just took off. Leaving Alec alone.”

Magnus’ blood went cold. “No.”

Clary stilled. “Max’s heart wasn’t beating when Alec pulled him out of the car.”

Magnus shivered. He leaned forward and wiped Clary’s cheeks dry, ignoring the tears tracking down his own face. It didn’t matter that Magnus had expected this ending. He knew what it felt like to hold someone you loved in your arms and not feel the reassuring beat of a strong heart under your fingertips. It was a vicious ache—an emptiness that spiraled into your soul—that no one should ever have to experience.

“But Alec—” Simon began to say. His voice was shaky, and he had to take off his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes, but Magnus did a double take when he realized Simon was _smiling_. “My badass brother-in-law Alec had learned CPR and emergency first aid from one of the trainers at college and he used his belt as a tourniquet on Max’s leg and kept up chest compressions until the ambulance got there.”

“Alec saved Max’s life,” Clary said with an air of wonder.

Magnus sucked in a breath. “Max lived? I thought for sure….”

Clary squeezed his hands. “He lived. Because of _Alec_. Max ended up losing the lower part of his left leg but he survived.”

“And because of that I have two badass brothers-in-law,” Simon said, the pride evident in his voice. Simon motioned for Clary to scoot over. She turned, leaning against Magnus’ side and dropping her head on his shoulder as Simon settled in next to her. Simon sighed. “They found out later the coach had had some kind of aneurysm and was probably dead before the train even hit. There was no one to blame, it was just a tragic accident that could’ve been infinitely worse.”

Magnus kissed the top of Clary’s head. “You were right. That isn’t a happy story, but it has a good ending.”

They were all quiet for a moment, then Simon leaned forward and popped the cork out of the wine bottle, refilling all the glasses and handing them out. “That’s the thing about it. There’s never really an ending to the effects of something like this. You ever notice how Alec rubs at his left hand? Some part of the wreckage speared through his hand when he was pulling Max out. Apparently that spot is still numb and he’ll never regain feeling.”

“But it doesn’t stop him,” Clary said. “Nothing stops Alec when he’s really driven. It’s one of the things I admire most about him.”

This was his client Alec Lightwood she was talking about—a man she obviously loved dearly, whom she had deemed worthy enough to be her family even though they weren’t connected by blood. A man who Magnus had shunned from the start because of what he did for a living and how he looked. Judging Alec by appearance and assumption….

Just as Magnus had always been judged by others.

The weight of Magnus’ missteps sat heavy in his heart. “I think I get the idea, but how does this all tie into how Alec ended up closeted?”

Clary lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. “You have to understand, Alec was eighteen when the accident happened. He wasn’t out to his parents. But from what Izzy tells me, he and Raj were serious and Alec was planning on coming out. The accident and Max’s recovery changed everything for the entire family in the years following, and Alec put his personal needs to the side for Max.”

“He and Raj were over the second Raj turned tail,” Simon added, his anger bleeding through every time he said Raj’s name. “Raj transferred schools the next year—but I don’t think Alec ever got over that betrayal. What happened with Max and with Raj messed Alec up for a long time. Alec never ended up coming out. He didn’t date anyone—seriously or not—and then he went pro and hiding that he was gay wasn’t a question.”

Magnus had been a lackey at IE seven years ago, not a full agent, but he remembered what athlete contracts were like then. “He couldn’t come out with how contracts were phrased.”

Clary nodded. “Max went through some hard years, too. Getting used to his prosthetic leg at first, then their parents divorce, then when he learned how much his accident had affected Alec. But he’s good now. Studying at Columbia to be an engineer. He wants to design and build athletic equipment for people with physical limitations, so that everyone has the chance to play.”

“He’s a great kid who makes horribly inappropriate jokes.” Simon laughed. “Impossible not to love, really.”

Clary glanced at Magnus. “I would say you’ll love him too, but I’ve only been half-right when it comes to the Lightwood siblings so far.”

 _No_. He’d been the one who was wrong.

But before Magnus could find the right words to say that to Clary, Simon was continuing. “Anyway, a short answer to the long version of where Izzy is tonight—every year Izzy, Alec, and Max get together on Max’s birthday and have a sleepover. It’s their one-night-a-year that’s reserved for just the three of them.”

“And Simon camps out at my place,” Clary said. “Look, Magnus, I know Alec is only out to a handful of people, but I also know that’s not how he intended his life to go. It’s definitely not how he wants to be for the rest of his life.”

Magnus acknowledged that with a nod. He didn’t know what to say anymore.

“So Alec knows you know he’s gay?” Simon asked him.

“He does.”

“And? How did that conversation go?”

Magnus remembered the look of vulnerability—of fear—that had crossed Alec’s face when Magnus had confronted him after the meeting. He took a deep swig of his wine. “I felt much more confident in the moment than I do now. It’s hard to hate someone after hearing that story.”

“You shouldn’t have hated him in the first place,” Clary said in a quiet voice.

Magnus cringed.

She was right.

“Have you told Alec yet about Gallant?”

Magnus shook his head.

“Text him now. He’ll want to hear.”

“He’s with his family, biscuit. That’s more important.”

“Text him, Magnus,” Clary urged with a soft smile. “Believe me. He’ll be happy to hear from you.”

 

****

 

“I can’t believe you made a blanket fort to celebrate my nineteenth birthday, Alec.”

Alec elbowed Max in the ribs and gestured to the sheet and blankets he’d attached to the high ceiling, draping them over the entertainment center all the way to the back of his massive couch. Making a carnival-like tent that he, Max and Izzy were now situated under shoulder-to-shoulder, watching TV. “This took me three hours to make. Respect the fort.”

“And I spent three minutes making chocolate milkshakes!” Izzy said brightly.

Alec sucked in more of the supposed milkshake through his glittery straw and grimaced. “I don’t think there’s any chocolate in this.”

“So there may be more vodka and rum than chocolate,” Izzy admitted. “And ice instead of ice cream….”

Max scrunched up his face as he took another drink. “Is that lemonade I taste?”

“Fine! I give in. It’s a drink called the green demon. But I had to pretend like we weren’t condoning underage drinking. So I added Hershey’s syrup.”

Max shook his head, and downed more of the awful drink. “You promised me you’d never allow her to use your kitchen again, Alec.”

“She brought these from home. Don’t blame me.”

Izzy dismissed them both with a silver-nail-polish-tipped middle finger. “So what are we going to watch first, _mis hermanos_?”

Alec set his drink aside and plucked the stack of Blu-ray discs he'd preselected off the couch. “Jason Statham, Idris Elba, Christian Bale, or The Rock?”

“Those are just guys, not movie titles,” Max pointed out.

Alec grinned. “I know.”

“Do we seriously have to fight about this again this year?” Izzy complained. “I never get to pick the movie. Ever. Come on, Alec. You owe me.”

“I’m going to take my prosthetic off and beat you with it if you even think about letting her do it,” Max threatened, his lips tipped into a smirk.

That Max was so comfortable with every aspect of himself—that he could joke about things that had once been painful—made Alec proud. He wished he could have half the confidence his brother had.

Alec lifted an eyebrow, meeting Max’s challenge. “So that’s how tonight’s going to go, huh? Come at me, bro.”

“I’ll hold him down for you, Max.”

“Traitor!” he yelled at Izzy, smiling. “I build you this elegant blanket fort and you repay me with betrayal!”

“I thought you built this for me!” Max yelled back. “Get him, Iz.”

Izzy grinned mischievously and launched herself at him.

“Shit,” was all he managed to get out, then Izzy was crashing into him, tickling his sides, and Max toppled onto the Lightwood pile of limbs, and Alec couldn’t breathe he was laughing so hard. Just when he thought he was going to have to admit defeat—because Max had his arms pinned and Izzy was ruthlessly digging her nails in and taunting him with the names of unwatchable rom-coms—Izzy abruptly stopped tickling him.

She tipped her head, listening to something. “Is that Dead Inside by Muse?”

“Fuck.” Alec could hear the song now, a ringtone he’d set in the heat of the moment. “Yeah, it’s Magnus calling. Hang on.”

Alec untangled himself, smacking Max and Izzy on the back of the head on his way out, and crawled out of the fort. He swiped his cell off the coffee table he’d moved to the edge of the room, picked up the call and put the phone to his ear. “What do you want, Magnus?”

“I have news you may want to hear.”

Alec held up a finger to tell Izzy and Max—who were peering out at him through the sides of the fort—that he needed a minute, and went into his bedroom, shutting the door.

“What is it?”

“Gallant offered a contract I recommend you accept.”

Alec gaped. “Are you serious?”

“An ungodly amount of zeros serious.”

Alec knees went weak and he sat down on the edge of his bed. “Holy shit. And you're calling to tell me this? I’m surprised you didn’t show up here.”

Magnus laughed at that—a sound that was genuine and warm, not the callousness or arrogance Alec was already used to. “I wanted to drop by, but Clary told me to just text you, so we played mah-jong to break the standoff—since Simon was being difficult and refused to vote. Then we realized that none of us know how to play mah-jong, so now I’m calling you. It was a compromise. Anyway, we can talk details later. I don’t want to keep you. Get back to your siblings.”

Alec recognized that sinking sensation in his stomach too well. “Clary told you what I’m doing tonight.”

“She did….”

Alec waited for the pity. For the apologies about Max that always came across more like insults. Or for the word _hero_ to be applied to him when he was anything but.

But Alec didn’t get any of those. Magnus gave a nervous laugh and said, “I’ve been advised that hating you on first sight may have been a bit rash.”

“You have, huh?”

“Frankly, I don’t know,” Magus said, all sarcasm and lightness and _teasing_. “I need to do a cost-benefit analysis to be sure.”

“I hear you’re good at those,” Alec replied, trying to match Magnus’ tone. He was a bit off-kilter with how this conversation had gone so far, though. Compared to the last time they’d seen each other—only hours ago—Magnus was talking _with_ him, not _at_ him. He knew why Magnus’ view of him had shifted, but he couldn’t be mad at Clary for spilling the whole story. He wouldn’t have been able to do it himself. Alec hoped this change meant what he thought it did. “You were very good in the meeting with Gallant today. Thought I should tell you that. If it wasn’t clear…you know…before.”

“Thank you, Alec.”

“I should be thanking you,” Alec rushed to get out. He didn’t know how long this apparent truce would hold. “I wouldn’t have this contract if it weren’t for you.”

There was a beat of silence, then, “Listen, Alec. I’m not okay with you being in the closet and I can’t pretend to be. You have the money and the visibility to break the paradigm and make a world-altering impact….”

Seconds. Their truce had last _seconds_. Alec clenched his fist and opened his mouth to snap at Magnus, then Magnus sighed heavily into the phone, and Alec reined his anger in. Waiting Magnus out.

“But….” Magnus finally said.

“But what?”

“But I understand how you ended up here. When you’re ready to be out, tell me. I’ll help you however I can.”

The threat of tears prickled at the corners of Alec’s eyes. He sucked in a deep breath to clear his head. “Okay.”

“We didn’t talk about his beforehand,” Magnus continued. “But I never allow lifestyle clauses in contracts I negotiate. There are the usual caveats about illegal activity and no public displays of competitors products, but who you choose to love will never be part of any contracts we work together on.”

“I didn’t even know that was an option,” Alec stammered. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed. They’re antiquated clauses. And I’m getting paid well to make sure you’re happy.”

Alec smiled at that, remembering what Clary had told him about why Magnus was an agent, and realizing that it was true. “But it’s not all about the money, is it?”

“It’s not.”

Alec picked at the frayed edges of the old college sweatshirt he was wearing. “This is weird. You and me. Talking without yelling.”

Magnus laughed softly. “It is.”

Alec groaned and flopped onto his bed, the reality of his situation settling in. “Izzy is going to give me so much shit now that I don’t hate you anymore. She was right, Magnus. And I was wrong. Do you understand how bad this is?”

Magnus gave a full-out laugh this time. “I think I do. Clary looks positively triumphant. It’s maddening.” He was quiet for a moment and Alec could picture what Magnus looked like when his gears were turning. “You know….”

“What?”

“They don’t need to know that they were right.”

“You want to pretend we still hate each other?”

“It would be fun.”

Alec sat up. This he could get into. “So how loud do I need to yell to make this realistic?”

“It’s not really about the volume. It’s the harshness of your tone and the amount of fucks you insert into a sentence.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “I have a tone?”

“ _That_ is the tone,” Magnus quipped.

 _Holy shit._ Magnus really was teasing him.

Magnus wasn’t okay with Alec’s choice to not be out, and they still had a lot to learn about each other to make this partnership work, but Alec thought… _maybe this will be good_.

He stood and started pacing, eager to tell Max and Izzy the news but wanting to spend just a few more minutes on the phone with Magnus. “I’m going to watch Simon’s band play tomorrow. Maybe you should show up.”

“I was already planning on it. Rock god Simon himself invited me.”

“Good. Then come. I’ll buy you a drink. We can start over. Or you can throw the drink in my face, whatever feels natural in the moment.”

“Well, Alexander—”

“Magnus,” Alec cut him off. “I may not hate you anymore, but still don’t call me that.”

Magnus chuckled. “Okay, Alec. See you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Alec ended the call and threw his bedroom door open. “Guess who’s the new face of Gallant Group?”

Izzy screamed, Max tackled him to the ground, and he was being peppered with kisses and smashed into his floor. He could only yell “Don’t bruise the merchandise!” twice until he couldn’t talk anymore and he, Max and Izzy dissolved into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keeping max alive was complete wish fulfillment on my part. i'm a sucker for the lightwood siblings and i just couldn't bear for them to lose max in this universe. i hope that's okay with all of you :)
> 
> i haven't been on tumblr in about three days but i swear i'll be back there soon! you can leave a comment below or send me a message on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic. i adore hearing from you!! ♡ xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alec discovers that magnus isn't (technically) gay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day twelve of the shadowhunters hiatus. yes, i'm still counting.
> 
> sorry for the delay on this chapter!! i ended up with the mother of all migraines friday night and it's hung on until today. ugh. please forgive any spelling, grammar or punctuation errors. i'll go back and clean this up when my brain is working at full capacity again :)
> 
> this one was fun to write. magnus and alec banter gives me life. hope you enjoy it!!

If Alec had a comfort level when it came to bars, then Taki’s was closer to it than Pandemonium had been.

Although, to be fair, Taki’s was more diner than nightclub. It was one large room with booths on one edge and a scarred, wooden bar on the other with a cutout leading to the kitchen behind it. The tables and chairs used for restaurant service during the day were stacked in a corner—making room for more people than was probably allowable by New York fire codes. But Alec could get a burger here—a _good_ burger—and that pretty much sealed the deal for him. He was having a good time. At a bar.

With Magnus.

“Is that really something you should be eating the night before a game?” Magnus chastised him, leaning forward on the stool next to Izzy.

Alec restrained a smile and took a grotesque bite out of the sandwich as he pretended to stare ferociously at Magnus.

He’d thought Magnus had been kidding last night when he’d said that Izzy and Clary didn’t need to know they’d been right. But Magnus had arrived at Taki’s like a firework—sparkly, loud, and ready to go off. So Alec had gone with it. Really, he and Magnus were having too much fun convincing Izzy they still hated each other. Izzy was endearing when frustrated, and she always caught on to things he didn’t want her to know…. And Alec was having _real fun_ for once. He just wanted to tease her for a bit longer.

Izzy glanced between the two of them—she was way too intelligent and way too suspicious—then downed the rest of her drink, immediately waving the bartender over for another. With Izzy’s attention on the bartender, Magnus winked at him—this _attempt_ at a wink more than a suave move—and Alec nearly choked as he tried to stifle a laugh.

He set his burger down and wiped his hands, composing himself. “What’s the name of Simon’s band tonight?”

Izzy poked at the ice cubes in her fresh drink with her straw. “Greedo’s Revenge, I think.”

“So Simon is Team Han Shot First, huh?” Alec said, not expecting either Izzy or Magnus to get the joke.

But Magnus giggled and Izzy’s head snapped around, eyeing him. Magnus peered over his own shoulder as if he were looking for the source of the sound as well. Izzy’s gaze slowly came back to Alec. “I don’t know what that means.”

Magnus had a hand clamped over his mouth, trying not to laugh, and Alec had to look away to keep his cool. “Not important, Iz.”

Izzy turned to look at Magnus again, and Magnus pulled himself together with flawless grace. “Well, this has been…interesting, but I love a hot piece of meat in my mouth as much as my client seems to, so I’m going to see what’s on the menu for tonight. I’ll find you later. Maybe.”

Izzy watched as Magnus walked into the crowd. “I don’t think he was talking about burgers.”

“Whatever,” Alec answered. Lamely. He was finding it much harder to deliver good comebacks now that his blood wasn’t boiling with rage at the mere sight of Magnus.

Izzy narrowed her eyes. “What is going on between you two?”

Alec shrugged and finished off the rest of his burger to hide his smile.

“I thought things had changed between you and Magnus.”

“I told you—I respect his skill. I don’t have to like him to work with him.”

“Huh,” Izzy said with unnerving calm. “Magnus said the same thing to me.”

_Shit_. If he sat here for too much longer he was going to be found out. Where was his partner in crime? He was much better at this when he had Magnus’ sharp tongue to work off of.

“I gotta…. I’m going to….” Alec stammered, sliding his plate away. He hitched a thumb over his shoulder and stumbled off his bar stool. “Yeah. I’m going to join the party.”

Alec ignored Izzy calling out for him, because now he definitely was smiling. There was no way he was going to be able to make it through the night without Izzy finding out. But he’d have more fun while it lasted.

He pushed through the crowd, at least a head taller than everyone else, searching for Clary and spotting her in one of the booths near the stage.

“Congrats on Gallant,” Clary said as he slid into the booth with her. He slung an arm over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

“Thanks, Clary.”

“So what’s next with the contract?”

“It’s going to be a few more days for the actual contract to be ready for me to sign, but Magnus said they’ve already contacted him with a potential shoot date for the first campaign. Looks like it will happen while I’m in LA. Magnus is planning on flying out if I’m still on the road when it happens.”

Clary took a sip of her drink. “You seem okay with that. Considering you—”

“Hate him?” Alec finished for her. He was barely maintaining _one_ pretend front tonight. He leaned in. “Don’t tell Simon or Izzy quite yet, but I may not hate him as much anymore.”

Clary lifted an eyebrow. “As much?”

“Not at all.”

“I knew you’d eventually like him.” Clary beamed. “And why can’t I tell Izzy this?”

“She was right.”

“Gotcha. This was Magnus’ idea wasn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

Clary shook her head, fondly. “You two are going to be so dangerous working together.”

Alec couldn’t disagree.

He took stock of the empty booth and glanced around the club again. “So where’s Simon?”

“Warming up in the men’s bathroom. This place isn’t really designed for live music. Hey, could you do me a favor? The waitress dropped off Simon’s drink but he hasn’t been back to the table since she came by. Could you take it to him?”

“Sure. I’ll be back in five.”

Alec grabbed the full glass in the middle of the table and cut through the main floor, heading for the back. Izzy was still at the bar, chatting with one of Simon’s band members. Clary was holding their booth for when Simon started playing. And Magnus…. Alec scanned the room, searching for the electric blue of the tunic he was wearing and found him in the corner by the bathrooms with his lips at the neck of…a woman?

Alec stopped short, sloshing some of the drink on the front of his shirt.

 

****

 

So maybe Magnus wasn’t as over the dark, noisy bar scene as he’d said to Clary last night.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked Jennifer, brushing a dark strand of hair away from the lipstick she’d just reapplied. “It’s the least I can do.”

Her eyes were locked to his lips and her fingers twined in his bracelets, dragging him closer. “I’m actually heading out to another club with friends. You can join—”

“Hey, Magnus.”

Magnus looked up to find his client hovering with a sweating drink in his hand, a wet spot on the front of his shirt and his brow furrowed. Magnus pulled away from Jennifer. “Alec! This is Jennifer.”

“Jessica,” the woman corrected.

“Forgive me,” Magnus said with sincerity. “Alec, Jessica.”

She gave him an easy smile. “It’s fine, Magnus. It was loud in the club’s bathroom.” She circled an arm around his waist and surveyed Alec. “So how do you two know each other?”

“I’m Alec’s agent, darling.”

“Magnus, you’re an agent?! And Alec…you are?” she cooed. Then her eyes went wide. “Oh my god, are you that actor that just got cast in that fantasy series based on those books?”

Alec narrowed just his left eye, as he seemed to do when he was dubious. It was…alarmingly disarming.

“What? No. I play for the Blazing Angels.”

Jessica stood tall, flipping her hair off her shoulder and pushing out her chest. “An athlete? You two aren’t interested in maybe, I don’t know, sharing…me?”

“Oh. My. Fuck.” Alec gave a long exhale, looking completely scandalized.

“While I applaud your creative thinking skills, Jessica,” Magnus cut in. “Alec’s and my relationship is purely professional.” He smirked at Alec. He’d enjoyed his time at Taki’s tonight, mostly because of the banter between he and Alec. “And there is the small matter that he hates me and I hate him.”

Alec shrugged. “So there’s that.”

“Hate sex can be so _hot_ ,” she insisted.

Alec’s cheeks went red, absolutely flamed. Magnus couldn’t help but think how innocent Alec looked in the moment. How unguarded and real.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Alec looked like when he was completely vulnerable….

Magnus shook his head to clear it and spared Alec further embarrassment. “We’re just going to go over here.”

Alec scrubbed a hand over his stubble as he chuckled. “I think that’s a good idea.”

 

****

 

“Clary wanted me to bring this to you,” Alec said as he tried to push the now-warm drink into Simon’s hands.

“Can’t,” Simon replied. “I need my fingers.”

Alec noted that Simon didn’t have a guitar or his phone or even any sheet music, then he surveyed the unkempt bathroom…. And he didn’t want to think anymore about what Simon needed his fingers for.

Alec took a sip of the drink since Simon didn’t want it. He cringed as the piney flavor hit his tongue. Gin. Gross.

But he took another drink anyway to ease the confusion swirling in his brain. “So I, uh, ran into Magnus out there. Practically making out with a woman.”

Simon laughed. “Only one? Slow night for him.”

Alec tipped his head, studying for any sign that Simon was messing with him. But Simon had already gone back to doing these throaty humming noises that echoed off the tiled walls.

The thing was, Alec had been sure that Magnus was gay. But now he…wasn’t.

They’d had conversations that alluded to Magnus not being straight, but those had been fights, bickering, more than talking. So maybe Magnus had just been baiting him….?

He was so confused.

And he didn’t know how to ask Simon about that without sounding idiotic or stepping over the line that straddled Magnus’ professional and private lives.

Alec began to pace, downing more of the gin and soda.

“Alec?” Simon said.

He stopped. “Yeah?”

“While I usually love the zoo and especially the tiger and lions cages where you can stand there and watch these super dangerous and beautiful creatures prowl back and forth…. Your pacing is way distracting right now.”

Alec pointed at the door. “You want me to….”

“Go. Yes. Please. Sorry, I just—”

Alec forced a laugh, pushing questions that he shouldn’t need an answer to to the back of his brain. “It’s okay, Simon. Good luck tonight.”

 

****

 

Magnus grabbed another drink from the bar then made his way to the booth where Clary was seated, just as the music started up. Greedo’s Revenge wasn’t Magnus’ usual type of music, but Simon’s voice was surprisingly pleasant. He could be spending his Saturday night in worse ways.

He spotted Izzy planted in front of the stage, watching her husband like she was a living heart-eyed-emoji. Simon gazed back at her as if she were the only person in the room, and the whole scene made Magnus ache in a lovely way. He couldn’t imagine looking at anyone he’d met with the same adoration that Izzy and Simon did with each other—but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. Some day.

“Hey, babes!” Clary greeted him. She pointed at the man sitting next to her in the booth. “This is Mike. One of my old friends from college.”

Magnus slid in across from Mike, noticing the once-over the man gave him as he sat down, and introduced himself. All three of them settled into listening to Simon’s band and didn’t say much. But every time Magnus glanced over at Mike he was smiling. So Magnus leaned forward to show some interest and get the man talking. He wasn’t ever going to find love if he didn’t try.

At least he could have fun while he was looking.

Mike was warm and knowledgable and nice. He was blond instead of dark-haired, but Magnus could push aside his preferences in search of a spark—that moment when interest turned to heat, to need. Passion. It was rare that anyone incited that strong of a reaction in him from the very beginning.

Magnus tried not to show his frown when that thought blazed through his head, repeating as if there was something he had missed….

In his peripheral vision he caught Alec approaching the booth and he automatically scooted farther over for Alec to take the seat next to him on the bench. Mike was talking about oil paints and a piece he was hoping to have accepted into a gallery in SoHo, but Magnus was having trouble concentrating….

Because of Alec.

Alec seemed to be intently watching the conversation Magnus was having with Mike. Magnus tried to keep his full attention on the man across from him—instead of the man next to him—especially when Mike jotted down his number and passed it over to Magnus, but Alec wasn’t even trying to hide that he was listening in.

Mike whispered something to Clary that had her glancing at Magnus with a sideways smile and Magnus would’ve usually considered that a good sign, but found…he didn’t care. He leaned back, slid Mike’s number into his pocket, and faced Alec. He pitched his voice low so only Alec could hear him. “Was that territory you were hoping to claim?”

Alec appeared even more perplexed and flustered than he had earlier. “No. It’s just— Weren’t you just with—” Alec winced as he took another sip of his drink. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

Alec’s face was scrunched up like a confused puppy and Magnus realized immediately what Alec was getting at. “Ah, you mean Jessica. I think she found someone to take her up on that hate-fuck threesome offer. She has initiative. You know, I should see if she wants a job….” He gripped the top of the booth behind Alec’s head and pushed up, scanning the room for Jessica.

Alec tipped his head up to look at Magnus. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Magnus peered down at Alec to answer him, then realized how close they were. That Magnus could see a reddened section of Alec’s lips, as if he’d been worrying the flesh between his teeth…. Magnus drew back and settled into his seat again. “Well, yes. Why?”

“Nothing.” Alec turned away, then was abruptly turning his body fully in Magnus’ direction, and leaning in to be heard above the music. “You know what— It’s just…. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“It’s more of an observation, but not a bad one. So sure.”

Magnus twirled a hand in the air, his bracelets clinking together. “What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy?”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I just did.”

“No. _You_ didn’t say that. That’s Ursula Le Guin.”

Magnus was shocked speechless.

Alec’s gaze danced over his face, taking in all of Magnus’ reaction. “It’s only been a day, but I think you already forgot I’m not just a goalie.”

Magnus readjusted his necklaces and shifted as well so he was facing Alec. His leg curled up next to Alec’s, close enough to feel his body heat, but not touching. “Point conceeded. So you like to read?”

Alec huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. I’m on planes, and buses, and in hotel rooms. A lot.”

“No TV?”

“Jace and I room together when we’re on the road and he loves TV. He always wants to have it on—something about noise in the background to keep his head clear. I usually tune it out with headphones, or finding quiet spots away from everything….”

“With music?”

“Sometimes. Usually audiobooks, though. I like words more than music.”

“Music has words,” Magnus pointed out, just to be difficult.

Alec shook his head. “Not all of it.”

_Not just a goalie, indeed_ , Magnus thought. He picked up his drink and sipped thoughtfully. “I don’t know what to say, Alexander….”

Alec rolled his eyes. “It’s Alec, Magnus.”

He bit at his straw and smiled around it. “I still haven’t decided what feels more natural—consuming my drink or—”

“Seeing how it looks on my face?”

There was a teasing lilt to his words that Magnus wouldn’t have expected. Wasn’t today just full of fun surprises?

“I wholeheartedly approve of face-related sexual innuendos,” Magnus encouraged. “You can throw those at me anytime.”

Alec arched an eyebrow.

“Bring it, Lightwood,” Magnus challenged.

“I knew it!” someone yelled.

Magnus’ head snapped up, realizing the music had stopped at some point and the lights in Taki’s had gone to full brightness, and Izzy was next to the booth, pointing at him and Alec with a triumphant grin on her face.

“I saw you two smiling,” she continued. “You like each other now, don’t you?”

Magnus saw the mischievous smirk on Alec’s face out of the corner of his eye, and he knew he was in trouble, but he still wasn’t prepared for the shock of piss-warm liquor being tossed at him as Alec abruptly stood, yelled “Fuck off, Bane!” and stormed out of the bar….

With his shoulders shaking from laughter.

 

****

 

Alec was still laughing when he put his key into his front door then pushed inside. He hung his keys from the hook and pulled his phone out of his pocket, hitting the button to call Magnus. The distinctive trill of Facetime started up, ringing twice with no answer and Alec wondered if Magnus was going to pick up at all, then the call connected and Magnus’ scowling face appeared on his screen.

“Magnus’ Magnificent Gin Emporium. We’re soaked and sticky, but always pine fresh. How may I help you?”

Alec cackled and had to swipe tears from his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Izzy was right there and she was so smug and I didn’t know what else to do!”

Magnus scowled even deeper, but Alec was beginning to recognize when Magnus was putting on a front. His eyes gave him away. Every single time.

“Hang on. You caught me in the middle of getting changed.” Magnus must have set the phone down because Alec suddenly had a view of what was either a wall or the ceiling—painted a bold red.

Alec kicked off his shoes and went into his bedroom, setting his own phone down to whip off his shirt and shuck his jeans. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning, “ Alec offered, continuing to talk even though Magnus couldn’t see him.

“Oh, I know you will,” Magnus’ voice came through the speakerphone. “I’ve also asked Clary to remind me never to challenge a professional athlete to _bring it_.”

Alec picked up his cell again, but Magnus wasn’t back yet. “It is like a red flag and a bull.”

There was a blurring of the screen for a moment, then Magnus’s face reappeared. “Noted. You can stop laughing now.”

“I can’t,” he protested. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“I couldn’t. You blinded me. With gin.”

Alec rearranged his pillows and settled against the headboard. “You’re the one who said we should pretend not to like each other.”

“But I believe the invitation for drink-throwing was intended to be mine, not yours.”

Alec shrugged. “I saw an opening and went with it.”

“You’re a goalie, not a forward,” Magnus said with an air of authority. “It’s not your job to take shots.”

“Whoa,” Alec exclaimed, a smile inching up his lips. “Look who’s been learning hockey.”

“I may have downloaded a book or two onto my Kindle.”

“You’re reading about hockey? Ursula Le Guin is one thing, but _hockey_? Nope. Nuh-uh. That isn’t okay in any way. You have to come watch a game.”

Magnus grimaced. “It will be a cold day in hell when I show up at a sporting event willingly.”

“We are playing the Devils when I’m back in town,” Alec deadpanned.

Magnus’ lip twitched.

Alec couldn’t hold back a satisfied grin. “I almost made you smile there.”

“You didn’t,” Magnus insisted. “That was an awful pun.”

Alec’s smile faltered. He thought of puns, and metaphors, and the innuendos Magnus loved to throw around. “Look. Can I ask you something?”

“As long as there’s no gin involved, yes.”

“I know this is probably going to sound really stupid,” Alec prefaced. He took a deep breath. “I don’t really know anyone else who’s not straight…. And I don’t know if I’m supposed to know whether or not someone else is…. Then there’s you— And I—”

Magnus’ features softened instantly. “I’m bisexual, Alec. I assume that’s what you wanted to know.”

“That’s men and women then…for you?”

“In the simplest terms, yes.”

Alec let that sink in. He itched at the stubble he’d have to shave off tomorrow. “I’m pretty sure I’m 100% gay, like no interest in women.”

“Pretty sure?”

Alec chuckled softly. “Alright, completely sure. I mean, I can recognize a beautiful woman, but there’s nothing…there.”

“I’m your agent, Alec,” Magnus chided. “I don’t need to know what is or is not happening in your nether regions.”

“That’s not what I meant—” Alec stammered.

“I was teasing, Alec.”

Alec sunk farther into his pillows. “I’m not used to talking about any of this.”

Magnus was in motion again, too, the image going out of focus. When Magnus resettled it looked like he was lounging on a black velvet couch. And he was definitely shirtless.

After so many years of hiding, Alec had perfected looking without really looking. But he tried not to notice the golden cast of Magnus’ skin or that Magnus’ necklaces were gone, revealing the graceful arch of muscle over bone…. Those weren’t details he needed to know.

Magnus _was_ his agent.

“It’s okay,” Magnus reassured him. “Believe it or not I was once there too. Knowing people who could sympathize…. It changed everything for me.”

“For the better?”

Magnus seemed to be considering that. He ran a finger over his lips that were now free from gloss.

“Most of the time,” he finally answered.

“Tonight was fun, Magnus.”

Magnus quirked an eyebrow as if to say _really?_ without having to say it.

“Okay, okay,” Alec admitted, giving in to the unverbalized question. “Probably more fun for me than you, especially at the end. I’m sorry for dousing you in gin. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh I’ll be sure to return the favor someday.”

“Shit. You really will, won’t you?”

Magnus simply twisted his ear cuff between his fingers.

Alec marveled at how Magnus said so much without saying anything. And how much he avoided saying by using uncommon words and complex sentence structures. Magnus communicated on a whole other level than most people. It was…fascinating. A challenge.

It made Alec want to learn how to speak Magnus’ peculiar language.

“I’m going to tell Izzy tomorrow that we don’t hate each other anymore,” Alec said. “I’ve never been able to hide anything from her for long. And despite the gin-soaking I’m pretty sure she already knows.”

Magnus smiled a that. “She’s a good sister.”

“She really is.” Alec stifled a yawn and glanced at his alarm clock. “Listen, I should really sleep now. I have an early flight.”

“Safe travels and good luck in the game. Goodnight, Alec.”

“Night, Magnus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so grateful for all of your kudos and insightful/flailing/funny comments!! you are my mvps. thank you!!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alec and the angels play to secure their spot in the playoffs, and magnus meets max...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day fifteen of the shadowhunters hiatus. tuesdays are so boooooooring now *grumpy face*
> 
> this chapter is a bit different style than the others have been, but it seemed to work best flipping between alec and magnus' perspectives. hope it works for you!
> 
> for those of you who aren't hockey fans, there are A LOT of superstitions in hockey. it's a _thing_ , especially when it comes to the playoffs. this chapter has more game slang than others, but i'm hoping none of it is too confusing. here are some basics to help you out, just in case:
> 
> crease - the area in front of the net (the goalie's territory)  
> D-men/blueliners - defense (of either team)  
> period - there are three periods in a game, twenty minutes each  
> save - when a shot is taken on goal and the goalie stops it from going in  
> shut out - a game where one team doesn't score any goals  
> backdoor - a pass made from behind the net to a player in front of the net
> 
> (and yes, there are SO MANY hockey terms that are also sexual innuendos. that may come in handy later...)

Magnus had planned on a quiet night.

A quiet night _with_ the Angels’ game on his TV while he worked in his home office, but a solitary, productive night nonetheless. Then he’d received a text from Izzy inviting him over to watch the game with her. He’d politely declined, stating how behind he was with his other clients because of a _certain_ Lightwood, and when she didn’t respond he’d figured that was the end of it.

Then his phone had pinged with a text from Clary begging him to come to Izzy’s because she had a surprise for him. Followed quickly by a text from Simon that was apologetic (he was really sorry because Clary and Izzy were making him send this) and gracious (Simon didn’t want Magnus to think Simon didn’t want him there too, because he really did) and unknowingly sexual (could Magus please come over and save Simon from being double-teamed)…. And Magnus couldn’t say no.

Magnus shifted the liquor bottle from one hand to the other and knocked on Izzy and Simon’s apartment door.

If nothing else, he really needed to see the look on Simon’s face when he told him how the internet defined double-team.

But it wasn’t Simon who greeted him when the door opened. Izzy—dazzling even at her most casual—smiled brightly. “Glad you could make it, Magnus.”

Magnus handed over the bottle, hugged her, then pulled back, surveying her outfit more closely. She was wearing a fitted, v-neck Angels t-shirt and fleece pajama pants with a pattern of golden wings covering them.

“I may have overdressed, darling.”

“You look gorgeous,” she said, gesturing at the artfully-spliced jeans, Neil Barrett thunderbolt tank, and the Junya Watanabe topcoat he favored now that spring had finally come to New York. She grasped his hand and pulled him inside. “I wish I could wear something else, but this was the outfit I was wearing the night Alec had his first shut out with the Angels. Apparently I’m cursed to wear it for eternity.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Izzy patted his chest and took his coat from him. “You will.”

“You’re here!” Clary appeared out of the kitchen, popping up on her tiptoes and planting a kiss on his cheek. “I got something for you. I couldn’t find one piece of Angels’ gear that looked like anything you would wear. And then I found this….”

She held out a tiny bag with the Angels’ logo on the side and dropped it into Magnus’ hands.

Magnus opened the bag and pulled out a slim cardboard box of nail wraps. There were red and gold wings, pucks made of ice with blue flames trailing off them, the gleaming Angels sword, and the distinctive NYBA letters of their logo.

Magnus mock frowned and held up his hand. “I just got my nails done.”

Clary dismissed that. “Don’t try to pretend this will be the first time you’ve had multiple designs in one day.” She plucked the package out of his hand. “I’ll put them on for you.”

“No way,” Izzy said, stealing the box from Clary. “It’s my house. I want to say I gave a manicure to _the_ Magnus Bane.”

“Don’t let either one of them touch your nails,” another, decidedly male, voice cut in. “I’ll do them for you.”

Magnus looked over his shoulder at a man he had to assume was the youngest Lightwood. He was wearing an Angels hoodie and basketball shorts that fell to just below his knees, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his carbon fiber cheetah leg crossed over the other socked foot. He had lighter hair than either Izzy or Alec, but eyes the same dark color as Izzy’s, lips that were nearly identical to Alec’s, and the devastating overall beauty that was definitely a genetic Lightwood trait.

“Magnus, this is Max,” Izzy introduced. “Max does have the steadiest hands out of all of us. I think it’s working with those tiny electric circuits every day.”

Max smirked. “Or that you made me start doing your nails when I was barely out of the womb.”

“Some day your wife will thank me.”

“Or husband.”

Izzy rolled her eyes like this wasn’t the first time he’d corrected her on that. “Whatever makes you happy, Max.” She held up the bottle Magnus had brought. “You want this to drink, Magnus?”

“That is a gift. I’ll have whatever you want to make me.”

From somewhere else in the apartment, Magnus heard Simon call out _Don’t do it, Magnus!_ , Max chuckled, and Clary looked panicked.

Magnus pushed out a hip and circled a lazy finger in all of their general directions. “I unwittingly stumbled into a family joke, didn’t I?”

Clary was biting at her lip, holding in a laugh. “I’ll pour you a glass of the wine I’m drinking.”

“All of you can fuck off,” Izzy said, with no real heat behind it, and followed Clary into the kitchen.

Max pushed off the wall. “So you’re Alec’s agent….”

“And you’re Alec’s brother….” Magnus replied, matching Max’s easy confidence.

Max shrugged—a gesture so much like both his brother and sister. “I’m pretty sure both of us have an identity that doesn’t involve the grumpiest Lightwood.”

Magnus held back a smile at Max’s description of his brother. “And yet both of us are here for Alec.”

“Maybe you are,” Max said, his eyes shining with mischievousness. “I’m here for the big sticks.”

“Max!” Izzy chastised him, from the kitchen. “You just met him! No inappropriate jokes.”

Magnus grinned. He spoke louder so Clary could hear him a room away. “You were right, Clary. This Lightwood I like.”

 

****

 

Imogen had been right when she said sports and superstition went together. The Angels were taking all superstitions to a ridiculous degree this year, and it was possible Alec was the worst out of all of them. Goalies usually were. Alec’s face was baby skin smooth—as it would be every game until the team was guaranteed their spot in the playoffs—but this was one superstition Alec wished had never become a _thing_. His cheeks were becoming more and more reddened with each player that came by and tapped his face for good luck.

“I fucking hate you, Jace,” Alec said through clenched teeth.

“Not my fault your face is so touchable,” Jace dismissed as he tightened the laces of his skates.

“What moisturizer do you use, _mi amigo_?” Santiago asked.

Alec just shook his head and went back to strapping his leg pads on. With the bottom part of his uniform set he swiped his cell out of his locker before he would be too geared up to look at the messages one last time.

Izzy had sent him a text that simply said _you got this_. Max had sent a line of knife emojis then a penguin (the team they were playing tonight) then a separate line of thumbs up followed by an angel. But it was the one from Magnus that had Alec flipping back to his messages.

Magnus had sent a picture of him holding the phone high above his head to catch his face in the frame, and Max leaning over Magnus’ other hand, his brows stitched together in concentration and a cotton ball swiping at Magnus’ nails. The text below it read: _if I’m going to be forced into watching hockey, at least I can do it fabulously_.

It wasn’t exactly “attending” a sporting event—as Magnus had told Alec would be a cold day in hell when that happened—but close enough. Apparently Magnus was at Izzy and Simon’s with his family. The thought made him smile.

“Never seen you happier before a game,” Jace remarked.

Alec clicked his cell off and dumped it into his duffel bag. He hadn’t replied to any of their messages and he wouldn’t until the game was over. He peered up at Jace’s grinning face. “I got this, Wayland.”

“Yeah, you do, bro.” Jace stood on his skates and clunked his way over, patting Alec on the cheek like he did before every game. “Let’s go do this.”

 

****

 

“He’s doing it,” Izzy exclaimed, nearly jumping off the couch cushion and slapping Max on the arm.

Max glared at her, holding the hair dryer steady over Magnus’ nails. “No hitting while the wrap is adhering, Iz.”

Magnus made sure to hold still as not to challenge his talented manicurist any further. He glanced at the TV and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. “What’s going on?”

“It’s one of Alec’s pre-game rituals some commentator picked up on, so the New York network always shows it now,” Max explained, a smile on his face as he watched Alec on the screen. He turned around again and examined the edge of the wrap he’d finished. “There’s a camera in the back of the net and Alec taps it twice before a game.”

“Once for me and once for Max,” Izzy said, puffing up with pride.

“These Lightwoods are so fond of each other,” he said to Simon, who was sitting on the couch next to him, an arm draped around Izzy’s shoulders. “I don’t have any siblings. Is that normal?”

Izzy jumped off the couch, dragging Max with her and doing this roll of her hips and swipe with her feet that mimicked what Alec was doing on the screen as he scuffed up the ice in front of the goal, but much more sensuously. “Come on, Max! We gotta prep the crease with Alec.”

Max didn’t even hesitate to join in.

Simon smirked. “There’s nothing normal about the Lightwoods.”

 

****

 

This was a normal game.

A totally normal game, Alec tried to convince himself.

Music blared through the Penguins’ arena and the lights flashed as the home team entered the rink—the black and white jerseys of the Penguins in stark contrast to the royal blue and gold of the visiting Angels.

A. Totally. Normal. Game.

Alec settled into his crouch, watching the opposing team circle the ice.

 

****

 

Magnus circled his fingertip over the rim of his wine glass, cataloging Alec every time he was on screen. Alec may have been an Angel, but he moved like a lion.

He was a protector of his territory. A stoic leader in the midst of frenzy.

He was graceful and _strong_ —

“Magnus!”

He snapped his head up, eyeing Clary. “You don’t have to yell, biscuit. I’m right here.”

“No. Apparently, I do. I’ve been trying to get your attention for almost a full minute! What are you watching so intently? Don’t tell me you’re actually getting into a _hockey_ game?”

Magnus scoffed. Alec was his client. And he’d come here to watch hockey. So watching his client play said hockey was what he’d been doing for the last—he glanced at the game clock on the TV….

“The first period is almost over?” he said with disbelief.

“Holy shit,” Clary breathed out. She faced the kitchen, where everyone else had moved to the bar stools and he hadn’t even noticed. “He’s actually watching the game, Iz!”

“It’s my job, cupcake,” he retorted and went back to watching Alec prowl in front of the net. He swallowed thickly, and downed more of his wine lest his voice come out too rough. “I have to learn hockey to rep my client well. It’s not like I have a choice on the matter.”

 

****

 

If Alec had the choice—which he definitely didn’t—then no one would talk to him about anything but plays during the game. But Jace was a chatty player. Making snarky comments as he skated by. Taunting the other team. At the same time, Alec couldn’t fault him for any of it. Jace was their captain and he instinctively knew when to let a play ride out and when he needed to intervene. Alec had learned to shut Jace’s voice out when it had a certain tone or volume. When Jace was trying to tell him something, Alec knew. When Jace was just fucking around, Alec knew.

The other players didn’t bother to say anything to him that wasn’t about the puck in play. And Garroway would rip the throat out of any player who tried to coach from the bench. Alec and Garroway had always seen eye-to-eye on how Alec directed play from the crease.

Alec spoke a lot on the ice.

He communicated with barked warnings to his teammates and a raised glove tracking the puck. It was the way he preferred to work and his teammates trusted him.

So when he caught on to the Penguins’ formation as they crashed down the ice at him, and he started yelling, “Pangborn backdoor, Pangborn BACKDOOR!” Pangborn should’ve been listening and adjusted his position to take on the Penguin setting up for a shot on goal. But the puck was already whipping around the net, right into a Penguins’ waiting stick and the puck was flying at the net. Alec slid across the crease onto his side, stacking his legs pads together, the puck stinging as it slammed into his mitt. The ref called the game to a stop and Alec dropped the puck to the ice and forced himself up.

Pangborn merely tapped his stick against Alec’s pads as a thanks for the save and kept moving.

Alec didn’t acknowledge him either way.

Five minutes left in the second period.

The Angels were ahead two goals to none.

He let out a long breath, and settled into his crouch again.

 

*****

 

Magnus tried to settle into the couch but couldn’t. “How do you stand this?”

“Stand what?” Izzy asked as she braided Clary’s hair.

“They almost scored on Alec!” Magnus protested. “How are you so calm?”

Max took a drink out of his beer, his legs propped on the coffee table. “But they didn’t. Therefore, calm.”

Magnus’ heart felt like it was going to explode. He was anything but calm and he couldn’t understand how any of them were. “Did you see that last statistic? That puck was going almost one hundred miles an hour.”

Clary shrugged. “They can go faster.”

Magnus shook his head at their combined nonchalance and went to refill his wine glass. So far, the wine wasn’t doing its job of relaxing him so he needed to step up his game. If Alec could catch a hockey puck with his hand then Magnus could definitely rise to the challenge of finishing this second bottle of wine. It was only logical.

When he sat down again, his wine glass full and his calm replenished, the Angels’ captain Jace Wayland was in another player’s face, inches away, screaming at him but not touching him.

“Who pissed in the blond one’s Wheaties?” he asked Max.

“One of the Penguins was messing with Alec. Alec handled it, but Jace apparently wants to reinforce it.”

Alec was digging his skates into the ice in front of the goal and everyone else was in the center. “But there’s no one near Alec.”

“Being the goalie can be really solitary—until someone from the other team starts fucking with him.” Max shared a look with his sister that was pure deviousness. “The Angels don’t allow anyone to fuck with their goalie.”

 

****

 

The Penguins’ D-men were fucking with him—trying to rattle him—but Alec wasn’t going to let them.

It was subtle at first. The butt of a stick jabbing into Alec’s glove. A defender brushing up against him after he’d cleared the puck. Nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing he hadn’t already handled by remaining calm and deflecting every shot that came at him.

He didn’t have to look up at the scoreboard to know there had been too many shots on goal. Their defense was struggling tonight, when the Angels blueliners had become the best in the league by the end of the season. At least the offense was more than holding their own. The Angels were still up two goals to none.

But as the game wore on, the Penguins kept up their relentless attack, slipping past the Angels until the puck was spending more time in Angels territory than it should. It took until halfway through the third period for the red light behind Alec to light up when the puck finally slipped past him, closing the Angels’ lead to only one goal.

That goal was all the momentum the Penguins needed.

The pace of the game picked up, and the crowd roared, white towels waving in circles in Alec’s peripheral vision.

Alec ignored the taunts thrown his way. Remained steely-faced when the puck slammed into the crossbar of the net, the clank ricocheting in his ears. He continued to bark out orders to the defensive line that was being pummeled because they were trying to clear the puck _and_ protect him….

Then Santiago let his frustration get the best of him, slamming his stick into the side of a Penguins’ head, and sending a grimacing Santiago straight to the penalty box. Alec calmly lifted the cage around his mask and took a swig of water while he could.

They were going to be one man down for the rest of the game.

He was sweat soaked. The weight of his gear heavy so far into the third period.

But this was when Alec’s focus kicked into overdrive.

 

****

 

Magnus’ heartbeat kicked up. “I fully realize this is just a game and if they don’t win tonight then they have the next game to go for the playoff berth, and it’s just a game, but—”

“It’s not just a game,” Max finished for him. He was sitting forward, both hands gripped tightly around his beer bottle. His ease from earlier was completely wiped away when he met Magnus’ eyes. “It’s never just a game with Alec in that goal.”

 

****

 

This was his goal. His net. His to protect.

The Angels were one minute and twelve seconds away from spending the rest of the regular season knowing they had a spot in the playoffs.

Alec crouched, ignoring the burn in his legs, and waited for the puck to drop.

Jace was fastest on the faceoff, getting a clean pass to another Angel who took the play into Penguins’ territory. It took only seconds for the Penguins to regain possession, swiftly working their way down the ice and Alec was in constant motion as the puck swirled around him. The first shot came fast and Alec dropped down, the puck rebounding, skipping away, only to be picked up immediately by another Penguin who slapped it directly back at the goal.

Alec didn’t bother to count how many times the puck was fired at him and he sent it away. The Angels hadn’t been able to move play to the other side of the ice for most of the third period and short one man—their fastest player no less—they were even less likely.

Faceoff.

Slapshot.

Save.

Backhand.

Save.

Alec heaved in breaths through his mask. Tuned out the roar of the crowd. Called out warnings. And felt like this game was never going to end…. Until the buzzer went off, signaling the end of play, and Jace crashed into him, a blinding smile on his face.

 

****

 

The Lightwood siblings smiles were blinding as they whooped and high-fived, and Magnus was fairly sure he looked as in awe as they did.

Izzy grasped his shoulders and shook him. “The playoffs, baby. We made it to the playoffs!”

A pleasant wine buzz was flowing through his veins and he was being tackle-hugged from all directions, and Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off the screen—where Alec was removing his mask and brushing sweat soaked hair off his forehead, a massive grin lighting up his face as his teammates congratulated him.

“Magnus!” he heard Clary say. “Again? Really?”

Magnus didn’t bother to hide that he’d been distracted by Alec this time. He looked at Clary and pointed at the TV. “That was…intense. And he was so…relaxed.”

Already standing in the kitchen mowing down a handful of chips, Max grinned. “Alec never loses his cool on the ice.”

“He rarely loses his cool _off_ the ice,” Izzy added as she refilled all of their drinks at the counter separating the kitchen from the living room.

Magnus arched an eyebrow as he wandered over, taking the bar stool between Simon and Clary. “I beg to differ. I’ve witnessed Alexander’s temper both off the ice and on.”

Simon laughed and bumped a shoulder against his. “You just bring it out in him, Magnus.”

Magnus took that as a compliment. “I am inspiring.”

Standing behind the counter, Izzy took a quiet sip of her wine. “You know, Alec really does hate being called Alexander. It’s what our parents called him…. It’s probably best if you don’t call him that. Even when you’re teasing.”

Behind Izzy, Max was shaking his head.

Magnus let his gaze slide from Max to Izzy. “Your brother seems to disagree with you, Isabelle.”

Max’s eyes narrowed and the corner of his lips ticked into the hint of a smile. “Betrayed. Just when I was beginning to like you, Magnus.”

Magnus shrugged.

Izzy rounded on her brother. “You don’t agree with me?”

Max studied her for a beat, then wiped his hands clean on his shorts and stepped up next to her. “Alright. You know what? Let’s go there. There are things we tiptoe around in this family when we talk about everything else. Izzy, you have a wicked tongue because you’re terrified of being rejected. Simon, you’re not completely straight. Clary, we all know you dye your hair. I use my scathing wit to deflect attention from my leg. Alec was disowned because he’s gay, and yes, Alec’s full name is Alexander—a name our shitty-ass, absentee parents gave him. He’s a tough guy. He can handle it.”

Magnus glanced around to see everyone’s reactions and found color high on all of their cheeks, but small smiles as well as they looked at Max. As if they loved him even more for his forthrightness. It was a family dynamic he’d never witnessed before and looked forward to seeing more of.

How had the Lightwoods roped him in so swiftly?

Then Max faced him. “Magnus, I don’t know you well enough yet to call out your shit. But give me time, I’ll sniff it out.”

Magnus smirked. “Let me save you a journey fraught with peaks more volcanic than Mount Doom—I have major daddy issues.”

Clary barked out a laugh and covered her mouth to stifle it.

Max quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward. “As in your father? Or is this a kink thing?”

“The former, not the latter,” Magnus clarified.

“Cool.” Max stood and slung an arm over Izzy’s shoulder. “Welcome to the hot mess that is the Lightwood-Lewis-Fray family.”

“We should have name tags,” Izzy said. “Hi My Name is Izzy And I’m Emotionally Stunted.”

“No.” Simon slapped the counter. “We need _t-shirts_.”

Izzy gave a feral grin. “Definitely. Grab my laptop.”

 

****

 

Alec grabbed his duffel bag and dug through it for his cell phone, switching it on. Notifications started to ping immediately and Alec scrolled through them, looking for one particular name.

He opened his thread with Magnus to find a selfie that had Max in the front, his mouth open as if in the middle of a yell, Izzy tilting to the side with a smiling Simon holding one of her legs, a raucous Clary holding her arm, and Magnus between Clary and Max—both his hands up in peace signs, displaying the NYBA of the New York Blazing Angels on his nails.

Alec grinned, then broke out into a full laugh when he read the message below the pic:

_I think hell just froze over_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear that each chapter is only going to be 2k and then this happens *sigh*
> 
> the next chapter is likely to end up longer than this one... it's magnus and alec in LA. together. just the two of them.
> 
> yeah, so that will happen...
> 
> i'll update as soon as i can!!
> 
> until then, i'm going to wander my way back over to tumblr later today. you can find me @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus and alec spend time together in la...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 22 of the shadowhunters hiatus. HOW HAS IT ONLY BEEN 22 DAYS??!!
> 
> holy motherf'ing shit. this chapter. i expected it to be somewhere around 6k and three days later than i planned on posting it and 4k MORE words later, this monster is now 10.5k words.
> 
> W.T.A.F.
> 
> well, here we go...

Magnus trudged into his apartment building, mentally exhausted after a long day of reviewing contracts. It had been a week since the Angels had secured their spot in the playoffs and he was finally caught up on the work he’d set to the side to accommodate Alec.

No.

_Alexander._

Like every other day this week, they’d shared more than a few texts today. Messages that had started out purely business then somehow ended up in a discussion about Brazilian politics that evolved into a back-and-forth on where to find the most authentic Hungarian goulash in the city. Magnus’ head was bursting with facts about paprika he didn’t know he ever needed to know.

He’d been getting hints for weeks that Alec was intelligent, but by now he was well aware that Alec was _not just a goalie_. It seemed like no matter what topic they landed on, Alec brought a new perspective to it, or a fact Magnus wasn’t aware of. There were now whole sections of the city where Magnus couldn’t walk without thinking of something Alec had told him.

Magnus’ thoughts were dominated by Alec. And Magnus wasn’t sure when that had started to feel…commonplace.

“Mr. Bane?” Magnus’ doorman called out, pulling him out of his reverie. “A package arrived for you today.”

Magnus accepted the package with an arched eyebrow and waited until he was in the elevator to examine it. It was a new box, not reused, with a return address of a shipping store in Dallas, Texas. On the bottom right corner there was a note written in scrawled black letters: _Open me carefully_.

Magnus cradled it while unlocking his door, then dropped his bag and keys in the entryway and set the box on his counter. Chairman rubbed up against his ankles, weaving between his legs.

“My apologies,” Magnus said to Chairman. “I would pick you up but I don’t know what’s in the box. I suppose that on the list of risks I’ve taken just today, opening a mysterious package—from an unknown sender with an ominous message on the outside—ranks pretty low. I don’t have that many enemies do I?”

Chairman Meow, well…he meowed.

Magnus shook his head. “No, I don’t think Ragnor and Catarina would plan an elaborate enough funeral. I should really inscribe my wishes into some kind of legally binding contract.”

He slipped a knife down the seam—with utmost care, as not to upset the enigmatic sender—and peeled back the upper folds, revealing a card with his name on the front and two kraft-paper-wrapped packages inside.

“No explosion or white powder. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless.”

Chairman purred.

Satisfied that both he and his cat deemed the contents safe, Magnus unsealed the envelope and drew out the card, opening it. All the note said was:

 

_Call me before you open these._

_Alec_

 

Magnus tipped his head. Reading the note again.

“Alexander sent me a package,” he said to Chairman.

Chairman tipped his head in the opposite direction.

“Indeed,” Magnus answered his cat.

Magnus picked up his cell, thumbed over to his contacts and hit the button to call Alec.

“Hey, Magnus,” Alec answered his cell, his voice sleep rough. “Isn’t it late there?”

Magnus glanced at the clock on his stove. It was barely past ten pm. “Not terribly. Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” Alec said through a yawn. “Florida maybe?”

Magnus toyed with the card between his fingers, smiling. “That would be in the same time zone as the fine city that is our permanent address.”

“Oh.” Alec chuckled lowly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I can call back if you’re sleeping,” he offered. “I’m sure you must be exhausted between practices, games, googling paprika facts…. Oh, and your daily lack of grooming….”

Alec laughed, the unguarded sound making Magnus go silent so he could listen to it.

“You noticed the stubble, huh?”

Magnus set down the card—leaving it open on his counter—and ran his hand over his own jawline. He hadn’t shaved since yesterday and could wait another day before he had to. “That so-called stubble would probably take me an eternity to grow.”

“Ah.”

“What?”

“I get it now.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “Get what?”

“You’re jealous of my superior facial-hair-growing skills.”

Magnus leaned a hip against his counter and scoffed. “Does it scratch?”

“What?”

“Your manly chin hair that grows like majestic corn in a sun-drenched field. Is. It. Itchy?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I see no reason to be jealous, Alexander.”

Alec began to laugh again, but the hypnotic reverberation was cut off with another yawn. “Did you call me for a reason, Magnus?”

“Yes, actually I did—”

There was a muffled _oomph_ then, “Shit. Yeah, yeah, yeah….” Magnus listened as Alec huffed out a frustrated breath. “Hang on, Magnus. I woke Jace up. He threw a pillow at me.”

“You shouldn’t disturb Goldilocks,” Magnus chided him.

“He is surly if everything isn’t just right,” Alec mumbled. There was the sound of a door closing. “Okay. So the reason I’m sitting on a cold ass hotel bathtub in my boxers is…?”

“I got your package.”

Alec was quiet for a moment, then, “You got my package.”

“Hence, my call to you.”

“Did you— Um. Did you open it?”

Magnus took in Alec’s stuttered words and the underlying nervousness they betrayed. He picked the contents out of the box and laid them out on the counter next to Alec’s note, studying them all. “Your note explicitly stated not to open anything until I called you.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually listen.”

Normally he wouldn’t have listened, but this was a request from Alec. A new weakness he wouldn’t admit to out loud.

“I was too distracted trying to figure out how you got my address,” he deflected.

“Privileges of being sort-of-famous,” Alec answered. “And Clary told me.”

“That traitorous biscuit!” Magnus said with mock offense.

Alec snorted.

Magnus smiled as he ran a finger over Alec’s inked name on the card. “What was that laugh about?”

“Nothing,” Alec dismissed. He took a deep breath. “Anyway, the package is two books. Since you insist on reading about hockey I figured I’d add to your collection. Go ahead. Open the first book.”

Magnus paused. “You sent me a gift?”

Alec gave a nervous laugh. “Two actually.”

Magnus let the shift from Alec’s easy banter to a vulnerable Alec filter through his thoughts as he unwrapped the package that had been on the top of the stack. The title _The NHL: A Centennial History_ was written in bold letters on the shiny black cover.

“I had some free time when I was in Dallas,” Alec explained. “I needed to get away from the arena and hotel for awhile, so I wandered over to a bookstore. Anyway, I saw that book, read the blurb, and laughed. It said something about men who loathed each other working together. And that it was the story of what happened on the ice and behind the scenes of the league. It seemed appropriate considering you and I—” Alec cleared his throat. “Anyway, I don’t know if you like history, but I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“I love history,” Magnus admitted. “That one, as you might say, hit the back of the net. ”

Alec chuckled—a sound Magnus was getting much too accustomed to—and an ease returned to his voice. “Good. You can open the second one now. It’s a first edition of the paperback copy of Anatoly Tarasov’s _Road to Olympus_. He was the father of Russian hockey.”

A first edition? This book was much different than an impulse buy at a chain bookstore….

Magnus carefully pulled the paper away from the second package and settled his cell between his ear and shoulder so he could use both hands to open the book. The pages were yellowed from age, and the spine was curved but not bent—as if it had been read multiple times but handled with great care. He had the feeling this book was important to Alec for more than it’s age or subject matter.

Magnus went with his instincts. “Tell me more about Tarasov.”

“Anatoly Tarasov is a legend,” Alec said. Magnus swore he could hear the smile on Alec’s face. “He said that a hockey player must have ‘the wisdom of a chess player, the accuracy of a sniper, and the rhythm of a musician. Above all, he must be a superb athlete.’”

The quote rolled off Alec’s tongue as if it was well-practiced. Magnus was…fascinated.

“I’ve always taken that to heart. Maybe a bit too much,” Alec continued, chuckling softly. “There’s no off season for me. The league doesn’t do things the way Tarasov did because the players would revolt. He was extreme, had a vicious temper, and he was a genius. I wish I’d had the chance to meet him before he died. Anyway, I hear this edition is pretty rare. It’s more of a collectors item than something fun to read, but I don’t know…. I was sort of assuming you have shelves of collectable books?”

Magnus noted the slight upturn at the end of Alec’s sentence. Alec was worried he’d made an incorrect assumption, but it was obvious to Magnus that Alec had put great thought into choosing this book. He’d considered Magnus’ interests and how they could possibly meld with Alec’s own. It was touching in a way that wasn’t unexpected. The Alec he’d gotten to know in the last week was thoughtful. More aware of others than himself most days.

“I do,” he reassured Alec. “Especially rare texts. This is perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Two goals,” Magnus replied, sticking with his hockey themed metaphor, since _anything_ hockey seemed to give Alec joy, “and I’ve given you nothing. You’re playing a potential shut out here, Alexander.”

“Huh. When you put it that way…. It’s no fun playing with an empty net.”

It was a hockey term Magnus wasn’t familiar with. Yet.

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m in Kansas City in two days. Take your best shot, Magnus.”

 

****

 

“Why didn’t you tell me your agent’s assistant is hot, Lightwood?”

Alec stopped in his tracks, rubbing the water from his hair with a towel as he emerged from the bathroom. He tossed the towel back into the bathroom, made sure the one around his waist was secure and looked at Jace, who was casually slung back in a chair with his feet propped on the desk.

“When did you see Clary?”

Jace was flipping Alec’s cell in his hand, a much too satisfied smirk on his face. “Your cell rang when you were in the shower. I saw the name and that she was trying to Facetime you.”

“So you picked up the call? Really, Jace?”

Jace grinned and dropped his feet to the floor. “I have no regrets. Why didn’t you tell me she’s so hot? I have a thing for red heads.”

Alec scoffed as he dug through his suitcase. “You have a thing for women.”

“You protecting Clary from me?”

Alec shook his head. “Clary can take care of herself.” He pulled out boxers, sweats, and one of his college sweatshirts from his suitcase and faced Jace. “Honestly? She’d dominate you.”

Jace’s brow furrowed, his ever-confident exterior cracking. But those moments rarely lasted long with Jace. Jace shrugged it off and tossed Alec’s cell on Alec’s bed. “Anyway, she was calling to tell you that your agent sent a package over with contracts you need to sign and send back. It should be at the front desk.”

Alec stilled. It had been a hellish two days of continual travel, practice, and games since Tampa. He’d forgotten about his challenge to Magnus. Was the shipment from him really contracts or…that?

“At the front desk, huh?”

“Apparently.” Jace stood. “I’m going out with a few of the guys. Celebrate having home ice for the first two rounds of the playoffs. You coming?”

“I’m done. Going to crash early.”

“See you later, bro.” Jace paused in front of him, gripping Alec’s shoulder. “Amazing game tonight.”

Alec smiled at the praise. “You too.”

As soon as the door was slamming shut behind Jace, Alec got dressed and called down to the front desk, requesting the package to be delivered up. Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Alec had a bulging express mail package in his hands. But before he opened it, he sat down on his bed and called Magnus.

“Congratulations on the shut out tonight,” Magnus answered his cell. “Isabelle is furious that she’s never going to be able to wear anything besides angel wing pajamas for the rest of her life.”

Alec chuckled. Izzy, Max, Clary, Simon and Magnus had gotten together again tonight to watch the game, sending him a now-very-normal flurry of texts and ridiculous pics. Messages that helped him start games in a much better mindset.

“She’s going to be even more furious when I make her wear them to the arena during playoffs.”

“You wouldn’t.” Magnus sounded horrified.

“Don’t underestimate hockey players and superstitions. But I won’t. Those pajamas are home-based game watching traditions. Tell her to pick out her outfit for the arena carefully, though—it should be something timeless.”

“Isabelle can handle herself,” Magnus asserted. “I’m more nervous about mine.”

The possibility of getting Magnus to a live game had gone from ‘a cold day in hell’ to Magnus shopping for an outfit to wear to the arena? Alec smiled, but didn’t bother to point out that fact. “I got your package.”

“Spectacular,” Magnus trilled. “And?”

“And what? I didn’t open it.”

“I gave neither ominous warnings nor vague instructions like you did.”

“I still waited.”

“Hack away at that package, beard-wielding lumberjack. I sent the last part of the Gallant addendum for you to sign and an envelope to return it to Clary.”

Alec slid the contents of the massive envelope onto the bed, finding a stack of papers with colored tabs indicating where to sign, the return envelope and…nothing else.

Alec was…disappointed. “That’s it?”

“Shake the envelope, Alexander,” Magnus said with a hint of humor in his voice. “Getting everything in took some work, but, lucky for you, I’m experienced with generous sized objects and tight spaces.”

“Inappropriate, Magnus,” Alec said. He picked up the envelope again and shook loose what he’d thought was just packing material at the bottom. “There’s a paperback and an envelope.”

“That’s it. I know you will be shocked by this, but there are times I can go overboard—”

Alec grinned. “You? Never.”

Magnus huffed and continued on, “However, I held back and only sent two books. The paperback is _Ice Station_ by Matthew Reilly. The main character, Shane Schofield, is a magnificently built Marine who’s called Scarecrow—”

“Scarecrow?” Alec asked, his face scrunching up as he surveyed the cover. “Tell me this isn’t horror. Horror…. I can’t do it. It scares me.”

“I believe that’s the point of that genre,” Magnus said dryly. “No worries, my trembling mountain man. This is action not horror. He’s called Scarecrow because he has scars running down his eyelids from when he was tortured in Serbia.”

“Got it,” Alec said. A book with Marines, torture, and action wasn’t anything he would’ve guessed Magnus would send him. “Is this one you’ve read?”

“I picked it up on a dare from a friend who challenged me to not always be so aristocratic. I ended up enjoying it immensely but lied to my friend. He’s insufferable when proven right.”

Alec laughed. “Of course you did.”

“It’s been a few years since I read _Ice Station_ , but if I remember right, Scarecrow getting shot and dumped into a pool of killer whales—while there’s a nuclear bomb heading for him—isn’t the most exciting part. It’s more absurd than a Michael Bay summer blockbuster and just as mindless and entertaining. A distraction for the copious hours you spend in planes, buses, hotels, and avoiding shaving. There are four more in the series if you enjoy this one.”

“I love these kind of books,” Alec responded genuinely. “We’re at two-one now.”

“The second one…. Open the white envelope. Inside you’ll find an encrypted jump drive. On it is one book— _The Charioteer_ by Mary Renault, a gay literature classic. It was groundbreaking when it was released in 1953. Some of the ideas about homosexuality are cringe-worthy by modern standards, but at its heart it’s a beautifully written love story between men. I assumed it would be safer for you to have this book digitally than in physical form. You’ll find both the ebook and the audiobook on there.”

Alec held the black USB drive between his fingers, his stomach flipping, nerves tingling where he was gripping the drive tight. He’d never dared to own anything that could tip him off….

“I hope that choice wasn’t an overreach, Alexander,” Magnus said quietly.

“No,” Alec answered immediately, even though his voice was rougher than he would’ve liked. “It’s more than— It’s… I’ve never read any gay lit. I didn’t know anyone…and I haven’t—”

“I assumed that as well,” Magnus cut in, sparing Alec from stumbling more over his words. “This is one of my favorites, so I’d love to hear what you think. And there are more books like this I can recommend, if you want. As long as you feel safe.”

 _As long as you feel safe_.

Alec turned Magnus’ words over in his head as he turned the USB drive over in his hand.

Magnus was offering space to talk. Offering Alec a connection to a community he’d always been on the outskirts of. Magnus didn’t agree with Alec’s choice not to be out, but by sending the book this way, he was offering Alec _safety_. Alec gripped the drive tighter, closing his fist around it. The drive was so small, but what Magnus was offering him was enormous.

Alec had to pause to find his voice. “You said this is encrypted. What’s the password?”

“Bane of my existence. All lowercase, all one word.”

“A password I won’t forget,” he tried to joke, but he knew….

_Shit._

Magnus was supposed to be a man he didn’t like, and yet, he knew Magnus Bane was becoming one of the _best_ pieces of his existence.

Alec could barely find his voice to say, “Thank you, Magnus. We’re tied. Two-two.”

“Only because I held back,” Magnus said. His voice was light, teasing, as if understood how deeply affected Alec was, yet needed that fact not be acknowledged out loud.

Alec swallowed, a tightness in his chest that was foreign, but…right. “You never score if you don’t take a shot, Magnus.”

Magnus hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll see you in LA.”

 

****

 

Magnus shifted his position on the couch set off to the side in the photography studio. He tried to keep his focus on his phone while he waited for Helen to allow him access to Alec, but he was restless, to say the least. Alec didn’t even know Magnus was here yet.

Magnus’ flight had been delayed, bringing him in hours later than he’d thought he’d arrive and leaving Alec to fend for himself. Ever the professional, Helen Blackthorn had orchestrated Alec’s arrival and ensured he was comfortable and taken care of—since Magnus couldn’t be there. Magnus trusted Helen, and he trusted Aline to take photos that would be just as stunning as the other campaigns they’d worked on together. It never sat right with Magnus when he wasn’t available for his clients when they needed him, though, and his lateness today really didn’t sit right with him.

This wasn’t a client. This was _Alexander_.

He sat forward and glanced again through the gap in the door of the room where they were getting Alec ready. He could see flashes of movement but nothing to clue him on when Alec, Aline, and the crew would move into the main studio for the actual shoot.

“Losing your patience?” Helen asked, her lithe form leaning against a chair as she tapped away on an iPad in her hands.

He eyed her. “Why can’t I go back there?”

“He’s fine. Trust me. He was…insecure when he got here.” Helen smiled fondly. “But Aline calmed him down.”

Magnus blew out a long breath and sat back. “You and Aline are surprisingly adept at soothing the male species.”

“Don’t be an ass, Magnus.” Helen tipped her head in the direction of the back room. “They’re coming out now.”

Magnus hadn’t heard or seen anything to indicate that they were done in makeup, but ten seconds later the door opened and Aline entered first, trailed by Alec.

Magnus hesitated for only a moment, his heart kicking up a beat at the sight of Alec. He stood and buttoned his jacket, waiting quietly, and watching Alec from across the room. It had been weeks since he’d last seen Alec in person. Weeks of talking, texting, Facetime, emails. Weeks of learning the way Alec moved while Magnus watched him on screen. Weeks of listening to Alec talk, coming to understand what it meant when Alec paused or stuttered or took a deep breath. Weeks that made this first sight of Alec much more familiar than it should have been.

And Magnus found he was…nervous?

Aline noticed him and lifted a hand in greeting, which made Alec’s gaze slide away from Aline, finally finding Magnus. A slow smile spread across Alec’s face as their eyes caught.

Magnus couldn’t help smiling back.

Alec broke away from Aline and approached, his eyes flickering down, taking in the lines ofMagnus’ linen jacket. “Hey. You look…good. Ready for the warm weather…and, yeah, all of…that.”

Magnus started to give Alec the same once over, but had to stop when he realized how little the robe Alec was wearing covered. He arched an eyebrow, trying to appear unfazed. Alec was nervous too, and he wanted to put him at ease. “I would say the same for you, but this robe is practically indecent. Didn’t they have something that is meant for a man more your size than mine?”

One corner of Alec’s lips tilted up. “Jealous of the stubble _and_ the robe now, huh?”

“An itchy face and cold thighs. Yes, there is much to be jealous of,” he quipped, earning a full smile from Alec that made his heart beat even faster. “How is it going so far?”

“Aline is pissed at me,” Alec said, leaning in so only Magnus would hear him. He ran his hand over his cheek. “I wouldn’t let her shave my stubble off.”

Magnus surveyed Alec’s fingers scratching over his jawline. Long fingers, marked with nicks and scratches of hard work, twisting in a thick, dark-haired beard that accentuated Alec’s lips…. He wondered what the hair would feel like under _his own_ fingertips—

Shocked that thought had crossed his mind at all—and with the proximity of Alec’s all-encompassing masculinity suddenly so very, very close and on display—Magnus took a beat longer to respond than he usually would.

“It is”—Magnus cleared his throat—“more of a beard than stubble now.”

Alec didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. “I trimmed it myself back there, but no one else can touch it. The playoffs, Magnus. Playoffs.”

The playoffs. Business. Yes. Representing Alec—his client—was _the only reason_ he was here.

“I understand.” Magnus held up a finger for Alec to hold that thought. Alec gave a lop-sided, blinding grin and Magnus leaned around Alec. “Aline. If anyone else tries to touch Alec’s sacred playoff chin hair then I will claim possession of your favored camera and use it to take excruciatingly detailed naked selfies.”

Aline silently glared at him, then her gaze slid to her wife—who was also her operations manager.

“I already told him not to be ass once today,” Helen responded to Aline’s unvoiced question. “If he didn’t listen the first time he won’t the second time.”

Aline merely rolled her eyes and kept working with her equipment.

Satisfied there wouldn’t be any forced shavings happening, Magnus refocused on Alec. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s not like you were flying the plane.” Alec reached out and smoothed down a corner of Magnus’ lapel, thumb grazing across the skin exposed where Magnus had left the top buttons of his shirt undone. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

Magnus opened his mouth to speak, but with the warmth of Alec’s words—so genuine—and heat of Alec’s touch—still lingering on his skin—he couldn’t think of one thing to say.

It was like the _swish-click_ of a lighter, igniting a spark inside Magnus that he hadn’t realized was there at all….

Had he?

“Alec,” Helen called out. “We’re ready for you.”

“We’ll talk more after,” Alec said.

Then Alec patted his chest, oblivious to how that simple touch had inexplicably become akin to dousing Magnus in gasoline.

 

****

 

Alec gripped the collar of his robe and dropped it off his shoulders into the hands of a waiting assistant. This may have been his second shoot with Aline—and he was feeling much more comfortable with her, especially since he’d met her wife—but being nearly naked in front of a large group of people wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.

“Alec,” Aline said as she stood behind her camera. “Let’s go over this one more time. We’re going to be doing macro shots and overall body shots around the theme of what an athlete is made of. It’s going to be a lot of detail work, time, and patience, with subtle shifts to the position of your body. You’ll need to pay attention to small movements that keep the larger, overall purpose in perspective.”

“He’s a goalie, Aline,” Magnus called out from where he was slowly pacing at the back of the room. “That’s what he does every day.”

Alec smirked.

 _This_ was what it was like to have an agent who got him. Magnus understood him in ways Hodge had never tried to learn.

He’d had quite a bit of contact with Hodge at one time—trying to build up a partnership he could trust. But his experience with Magnus was different. He and Magnus talked, a lot, on the phone and over text and via email and well…just _a lot_. There was always something to do with business that he and Magnus could discuss. More than often not, though, they ended up discussing books or music or absolutely nothing. For longer than they probably should.

That wasn’t the only difference between his old agent and new one, though.

Hodge had never looked at Alec the way Magnus had looked at him earlier. And Alec had never been aware of Hodge the way he was with Magnus.

He could feel Magnus’ eyes on him as the shoot started.

And it made Alec want to stand taller.

 

****

 

Magnus loved LA.

There were a slew of beautiful people in LA—a slew of beautiful people in this room alone—but Magnus was having difficulty keeping his eyes on any of them besides Alec.

Magnus had been through this once before. Watching Alec in that first photo shoot stripping down to almost nothing. Talented, professional hands working on his hair, face, and body—over his arms, legs, back, and chest—to accentuate the angle of his cheekbone, the cut of his jaw, and the raw power of the muscles he’d perfected with years on and off the ice. Yes, Magnus had sat in on a photo shoot with Alec before.

This shoot for Gallant was decidedly different.

A month ago, Alec Lightwood had been a client, a _product_. That view had been insulting and degrading, and it had tainted the way Magnus had viewed even Alec’s physical form. He’d never been into men who were more on the bear spectrum—burly, hairy, and very masculine. But bearish and athletic wasn’t all of who Alec was.

He knew Alec now. Understood why the women who touched him brought an innocent stain to his cheeks and the men brought a steeliness to his resolve. He was getting to know the man beneath the facade and he liked Alec. It was fair to say he’d begun to think of him as a friend….

Magnus slipped his jacket off and draped it over a chair, the room suddenly way too hot.

Right now, though, he wasn’t looking at Alec as either a client or a friend….

He didn’t know what to do with that.

 

****

 

Alec wore only a skin-tight set of black briefs and he should’ve been hot under the glare of the studio lights. Pink-cheeked because of the scrutiny of Aline and her crew.

But he blushed profusely when he caught Magnus’ eyes fixated on him.

And he shivered when Magnus began to lose layers of clothing as well.

First his suit jacket, and his scarf. Then the sleeves of his shirt unbuttoned and rolled to just below his elbows.

Alec tracked Magnus as he paced around the room. Anytime they caught eyes, Magnus’ features would soften, as if he was attempting to wordlessly tell Alec that it was okay. That he was doing well.

More than once Aline had to remind Alec to keep his eyes on _her_.

Gradually the buttons on Magnus’ shirt were undone by Magnus’ graceful hands—one by one, until Magnus’ necklaces were hanging against bare skin.

Alec tried not to notice each new hint of skin that appeared as time wore on.

Hour after hour, with muscles burning despite what was a relatively inactive day, Alec had to work to maintain his focus. To ignore bracelets on muscled forearms, glitter on bronzed skin, white teeth nipping at gloss-stained lips…. 

At the end Alec was exhausted.

And it wasn’t because of the Aline’s relentless pace.

The studio lights clicked off and Alec ignored the minuscule robe in favor of downing the bottle of water handed to him as he watched Magnus approach him in his peripheral vision.

“Do you have to be up early for practice?”

Alec finished the water, licked his lips, and tried to keep his gaze solely on Magnus’ eyes. “No. I’m, uh, flying back to New York tomorrow. No practice until Friday. Everyone else they…flew out today.”

Magnus twisted the rings on his hand. The motion was hypnotic. Innocent yet suggestive. “I booked a suite at your hotel. Come by room 2804 if you want to have dinner later. Your choice.”

Magnus twirled around on his heel, swiping his jacket off the chair and settling it over his arm. Alec wasn’t checking out the sway of Magnus’ hips or the _roundness_ that was _right there_ as Magnus walked away. He just _wasn’t_ —

Alec’s eyes snapped back up as Magnus turned.

A slow, satisfied smile inched up Magnus’ lips as he gestured at Alec’s briefs. “Whether or not you decide to leave those on is also your choice.”

 

****

 

For not the first time in his life, Magnus had no idea what he was doing.

He was well-practiced at faking it. Sliding into a second skin of cool confidence and loquacious nature meant to distract from how uncertain he was inside. It was rare when he was so rattled that he couldn’t settle into that head space.

He was decidedly rattled right now.

Ragnor’s voice repeated in his head— _you’re going to fall in love with him_ —over and over and over again. His friend knew him too well. Magnus fell faster than buttonless pants and harder than Thor’s hammer. But Ragnor wasn’t going to be right about this.

“You’re not going to fuck him and you’re not going to fall in love with him,” Magnus muttered to himself as he stared into the mirror, applying his lash primer. “But first, you’re absolutely not going to fuck him.”

Alec was his client. His friend. His closeted friend.

 _All_ of those were grounds for striking Alec out of the realm of possibility.

It was likely Alec wouldn’t even show up tonight anyway. He’d looked wrecked after the shoot. Alec had been so worn down that he—a shy man by nature—had foregone his robe when Aline finally called the day to an end. Not that Magnus could find fault in that oversight. All of that skin, and defined lines of muscles, curling chest hair, unguarded smile—

Right. _That_ wasn’t what Magnus needed to be focusing on either.

He sighed and picked up his mascara.

“He’s a closeted friend who is your client,” Magnus stated. Holding strong.

Magnus’ hand went flailing when there was a knock on his door. He rubbed out the streak of mascara on his forehead and took a deep breath. “Alec deserves better than you. You know that.”

He scowled at his reflection and went for the door.

Standing outside his room was a freshly showered Alec, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his chin tipped down and a soft smile on his lips. “Still up for dinner?”

Magnus gripped the door tighter and stepped back for Alec to enter. “Finishing getting ready now. Would you like a drink?”

Alec brushed past him, an innocent upturn on his lips. “Sure.”

Magnus went to the bar, putting all of his focus into placing ice cubes in two glasses and picking up the crystal tumbler of amber liquid with care so he didn’t send any of it careening to the floor with his unsteady hands.

Alec stepped up next to him and quirked an eyebrow. “Whiskey?”

Alec was too close and Magnus was too aware of him and Magnus bristled without thought. “I’m not as stereotypically flamboyant as I come off, Alexander.”

Alec’s brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant. I love whiskey. It’s just…another thing we have in common.”

Magnus cringed.

“My apologies,” he backtracked immediately. Magnus finished pouring the drinks and handed one to Alec. “It’s been a long day.”

Alec accepted the glass, frowning. “We don’t have to do this.”

Magnus’ shoulders slumped. He couldn’t allow his own adolescent hormone surge to set Alec off-kilter. “No, Alexander. I want to.”

Alec’s eyes darted over Magnus’ face—as if he was assessing the truth of Magnus’ words. Seemingly satisfied, Alec smiled again and lifted his glass. “The whiskey will help then. To us.”

Alec winced at the first bite of whiskey across his lips and Magnus restrained a smile at the reaction.

He liked Alec.

Alec _was_ a friend.

Magnus had a responsibility to protect him, and not just because it was his job. He wanted to.

He had to put everything else to the side and not allow his control to slip.

Alec deserved better.

Magnus set his glass down and went to his dresser to put on the rest of his jewelry. “We don’t have to talk business all night, but you should know I was contacted by Sebastian Morgenstern at the egotistically named Morgenstern & Morgenstern. He’s taken over control of the company with this father’s…extended hiatus. He wanted me to let you know that they will continue to work to recover any money they can and hope to earn your trust again so you may rekindle your prosperous relationship.”

Alec barked out a laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Magnus smirked. He popped his ear cuff on and picked up his drink again. “Sadly, I am not. I shouldn’t be saying this nipping so close on the heels of how _our_ first interactions went, but I don’t like him. It would be my professional opinion to seek alternative financial council.”

Alec flopped into the wing-backed chair by the windows, grimacing. “I don’t have any money left to manage.”

“More than most.”

“And more than I was raised on,” Alec admitted. He leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “I try not to forget that, but sometimes it’s hard.”

“You and Isabelle have done well for yourselves,” Magnus said, settling onto the couch in the spot closest to Alec. “It seems as if your brother is on the same track. You should be proud.”

Alec shrugged.

Magnus ran his fingers over the condensation on his glass. They’d already broached the subject of Alec’s upbringing and there was a topic that Magnus had been attempting to reconcile since the first night he’d met Max. “Alexander. I’d like to ask you something that’s personal.”

“I’m in your hotel room. Drinking. Doesn’t get much more personal than this.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow in silent reply.

Alec’s cheeks turned a blushing shade of red that was obvious despite his hotel room’s low light. “Alright, it could be more personal. Anyway. Go ahead.”

“Simon and Clary told me that you never came out, but your brother said you’d been disowned by your parents. Even if the diverging stories hadn’t made me wonder, there is more to who you are, and only you can tell me those pieces. I was hoping that maybe we’d reached a place where you could.”

Alec scrubbed a hand over his beard. “That is personal.”

“And you don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable,” Magnus insisted.

Alec shook his head. “It’s okay. Both of them are right. I didn’t ever have a coming out that was public in any way, but my parents did find out. I was outed by my ex-boyfriend.”

Magnus heaved a sigh. “I’ve only been told about one ex.”

“That’s because there’s only one. He— Raj—” Alec winced at the name, took a deep drink. “He decided a year later that he needed to ask my parents forgiveness for not helping Max. While he was there, he shared how he’d gone down the path of ‘fixing’ what was wrong with him—that he wasn’t gay anymore. Then he offered to assist in my recovery from the ‘stain of homosexuality’ too.”

Magnus was horrified. “He’d undergone conversion therapy?”

“Apparently. I wasn’t home when he was there, so I don’t know exactly how it all went down—just what my parents yelled at me later. It was all very…unpleasant.”

“It sounds like a violation.”

“It was.”

Magnus gritted his teeth. “I gather your parents were not as enraged as I am right now.”

“They were—just not about the right thing. What’s really fucked up is that I don’t know if they had more of an issue with me being gay or the color of my ex’s skin. I’m still not clear on it and both options are disgusting. I didn’t give them a chance to explain—I moved out the night they confronted me.”

That was worse than any scenario Magnus had imagined in the last two weeks. He took in the line of Alec’s hunched shoulders. “You don’t need to be fixed, Alexander.”

Alec ducked his head, then looked up at him with determined eyes. Resolute. “I have a hell of a lot I could fix, but being gay isn’t on that list.”

Magnus took a deep breath and leaned forward, mirroring Alec. “You’ve been betrayed by too many people who should have protected you.”

Alec chuckled darkly.

“We’re still learning about each other,” Magnus said quietly. “So I won’t say you should trust me. But I hope to earn your trust some day.”

Alec’s brows were stitched together in confusion. “I already do trust you, Magnus.”

Magnus stilled.

That was exactly why Magnus had to draw a definitive line between Alec being a friend and being _more_.

He would do everything in his power to maintain Alec’s trust.

“Thank you, Alexander.”

Alec smiled sadly and took another drink. “Anyway, I received legal notification about a week after moving out that I’d been removed from their estate plans. We grew up poor, but both of my parents are loaded now. As long as Izzy and Max are taken care of, I don’t care that I won’t see a penny of their money.”

“It’s not about the money, though.”

“It’s not.”

Magnus settled into the couch again, slinging his arm across the back. “Parents are supposed to love unconditionally, but that’s not always the truth of the situation. You’re lucky to have Isabelle and Max.”

Alec’s face brightened at the mention of Max’s name. “You’ve spent a lot of time with Max in the last two weeks.”

“I have.”

“Izzy told me he was in usual form the first time you met.”

“He made Isabelle admit that he could marry a man if he wanted,” Magnus said. “Then he made an innuendo about hockey sticks and penises.”

The corner of Alec’s mouth tipped up and he scoffed fondly. “Max.”

“Any chance he’s not straight?”

“Doesn’t really matter, right?” Alec replied. Magnus shook his head to let Alec know he agreed. “Right now, though, he’s all about—in his own words—challenging Izzy’s heteronormative bias. I didn’t know what that meant until I googled it.”

“He’s a smart kid,” Magnus offered.

“Smart _ass_ ,” Alec clarified.

“Usually goes hand in hand.”

Alec smirked. “You would know.”

“Likewise, Alexander.” Magnus finished the rest of his drink and set the glass on the coffee table. “So, do you want to go out?”

“Yeah,” Alec said. His entire demeanor much more at ease now that they’d gone back to their usual banter. “That sounds fun. What did you have in mind?”

Magnus smiled.

 

****

 

Alec tried not to blink. He was seated on the edge of the massive jacuzzi tub and Magnus was between his legs, one steady hand tipping Alec’s chin up and the other brushing a thin twist of eyeliner on Alec.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”

“Your eyes are stunning, Alexander. They should be properly framed.”

Alec tried to ignore the way his heart beat faster at Magnus’ casually delivered compliment. And that Magnus was close enough for Alec to smell his cologne and pick out the individual specks of glitter on Magnus’ chest. And that with the way they were positioned Alec could easily have grabbed on to Magnus’ hips and tugged him down—

Alec cut that thought off as fast as he could. “I’ve worn makeup before. I was always Izzy and Max’s test subject because they said I had the best bone structure. Max may be just as good at this as you are.”

“That would not surprise me at all,” Magnus said. He leaned back and surveyed his work. “Can I do a bit more?”

“Like what?”

“Just some black eyeshadow. Put a spotlight on your masculine inapproachability and natural aura of mystery.”

Alec chuckled. “Sure.”

Magnus dipped his finger into a silver container. “Close your eyes.”

Alec obeyed, feeling Magnus’ breath against his cheek when Magnus leaned in. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to a man who wasn’t a relative or a teammate, let alone someone he was attracted to.

Alec remained as still as he could, breathing in Magnus’ closeness, letting his presence calm Alec.

There was no denying it anymore for Alec—he was attracted to Magnus. What he wanted to do with that, if anything, left his head spinning when he tried to make sense of it. So for now, he was just living with this new reality.

A new reality that apparently included him agreeing to the insane idea of going out to a gay club with Magnus.

“You’re sure this place is safe?” Alec asked. Again.

Magnus’ finger glided across Alec’s eyelids, then Magnus stepped back and told Alec he was done.

Alec opened his eyes and watched Magnus wipe his hands then systematically begin to clean brushes and close up containers.

“Anyone at this club is there because they’re queer too,” Magnus reassured him. Again. “It’s an exclusive club where membership or the recommendation of a member is needed. They’ll want their secrets known as much as you do.”

“The more you talk about this, the more it’s starting to sound like the intro to a BDSM porn.”

Magnus laughed. “It’s not a BDSM club. Just a safe haven with excellent food and drinks. It’s more of a social club than a nightclub, but there will be music and dancing if you want.”

Alec stood and tugged at the hem of his black henley. “And this is okay to wear?”

“Your overall aesthetic is flawless, Alexander. If you don’t want to come back to the hotel alone then you won’t.”

Alec frowned. “I won’t be alone. I’ll be with you.”

Magnus smile looked too brittle—too forced—for only a heartbeat, then he was waving a hand in the air and exiting the bathroom in a flourish of clinking bracelets. “You don’t have to babysit me. Leave your options open.”

He followed Magnus into the main room, watching as Magnus undid a few more of the buttons on his shirt and removed a necklace only to replace it with another that fell almost to his waist. Alec leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

“Are we cabbing it?”

Magnus tilted his head and gave a dramatic eye roll. He gracefully swept the hotel phone up and hit a button. “Anna, the car can come around now.” He paused, listening. “Of course. Thank you.”

“Anna?”

“She knows all, sees all, can accommodate all—that is morally defensible—and says nothing. She’s wise, wily, and a distractingly curvaceous woman.”

Alec quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

Magnus sniffed. “She’s much too upstanding to ever think of bedding the likes of me.”

“I like her already.”

Magnus shot him a pointed look that made Alec chuckle.

Alec patted his back pocket. “I should run down to my room and get my wallet. I forgot to grab it earlier.”

Magnus swept the door open and held it for Alec. “You won’t need it.”

“Where exactly are you taking me?” Alec asked as he walked past Magnus into the hallway.

The corner of Magnus’ lip tipped up, but before he could say whatever mischievous thing was coming next, Alec noticed there was a woman with a jaw-dropping hour-glass figure in a red shirt and black pencil skirt striding confidently down the hallway in their direction.

Alec tipped his head toward her. “Anna?”

Magnus leaned his head into the hallway and grinned. “Anna, darling.”

“Magnus,” she greeted him. “It hasn’t been nearly long enough.”

Magnus let the door fall shut behind him and pulled her close, kissing both her cheeks. “Still recovering from the bail hearing, I suppose?”

“I would tell you there’s no bail fund tonight, but I’d be lying. I automatically up the emergency funds when you’re in town.”

“Anna,” Magnus introduced. “This is Alec.”

Anna extended her hand and shook Alec’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Follow me.”

Anna slid her hand in Magnus’ offered arm and led them to an elevator tucked behind a corner at the end of the floor. She extracted a keycard from the pocket of her pencil skirt and a button lit up. “Your car will be waiting directly outside the doors on the underground level. I’ve already instructed the driver of your destination. She’s to wait for you there until you leave or wish to go elsewhere. If you need anything—no matter the time—text me.”

Magnus kissed her cheek again. “As competent as always.”

She held the door when the elevator arrived, allowing he and Magnus to enter, but remaining in the hallway. “Alec, lovely to meet you. Make sure to get my number from Magnus for the next time you’re in LA. I’d be happy to assist you with anything you may need.”

Alec could only get out a rushed _thank you_ before the doors were sliding shut and the elevator was in motion. “I may be gay, but wow. Distractingly curvaceous was an understatement.”

“Anna is in love with her body and for very good reason.”

Alec shifted from foot to foot, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “Is a woman like her your usual type?”

Magnus’ gaze was unflinching. “If you mean dark hair and soulful eyes, then yes.”

Alec bit back the question he really wanted to ask when the doors opened. There was a sleek black town car at the curb and a woman in all black outfit who stood next to the open backseat door. “Good evening, Mr. Bane. Anna left a bottle of Louis XIII in the car for you and your guest. Let me know if you need to stop anywhere else on the way.”

Magnus expressed his thanks and motioned for Alec to climb into the car first, then slid in next to Alec as the driver closed the door behind them.

Alec looked around the refined interior and shook his head. He hadn’t know what to expect when Magnus had told him to stop by his suite for dinner, but it wasn’t any of this. “I thought I was supposed to be the semi-celebrity, but you live on a whole other plain.”

Magnus crossed his legs and shifted so he was facing Alec. “Trappings of the business, Alexander. I’m not wealthy, but my clients are. They’re wooing you, not me.”

Alec grinned. “It’s working.”

Magnus picked up a bottle with reddish amber liquid and glass spikes on the side. “Louis XIII?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Alec confessed.

Magnus pulled the stopper out and poured servings into two glasses. “Ridiculously expensive and yet totally free for you, what else?”

Alec reached for the glass. “Definitely.”

 

****

 

“So what are you?” Alec asked in a hushed voice as they trailed behind the maître d’.

Magnus set his hand on the small of Alec’s back and looked up at him. Maybe it was the cognac in the car, or the fact that the restaurant was filled with tables of same-sex couples, but Alec hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d arrived and Magnus was having trouble concentrating on anything besides making sure Alec stayed happy. “I’m sorry, what am I what?”

Alec peered down at him, his eyes bright. “You said this place is for members or guests of members. Which are you?”

“Ah, a member. The dues are astronomical but I convinced Imogen the expense was worth it a few years ago. Anything we eat or drink will be expensed to the IE account. But no guest names are ever recorded. No one at IE will know you were here with me.”

The maître d’ motioned to a private table at the side of the main floor and Magnus nodded his agreement.

Alec took the seat opposite him. “I don’t know what else to say besides thank you. I know all of this”—he made this sweeping motion with his right hand—“isn’t the way you’d like for things to be. You’re doing it for me, though, and I’m not quite sure why. But it— It means everything to me. I just…. I felt like I had to say that.”

Magnus couldn’t pretend that being this secretive didn’t reopen old wounds, but he didn’t need to repeat himself. Alec was here—in a place that was a known queer space, looking way less than straight—and he was smiling. Grateful. Magnus was very sure he would continue doing whatever he could to make Alec more and more comfortable with himself, however long it took.

So he gave Alec the only response that mattered.

“You’re welcome, Alexander.”

 

****

 

Magnus clapped his hands over his mouth, but it was too late. Heads were turning in their direction at the high-pitched, uncontrollable giggle coming from Magnus’ lips.

Alec didn’t care. They could all fuck off as far as he was concerned.

Making Magnus laugh—really laugh, not just an ironic twist of his lips—was better than any high he’d experienced off the ice or on.

Alec didn’t bother waving the waiter over. He picked up their bottle of wine and divided the rest of the contents between his and Magnus’ glasses. “So anyway, that’s why I have this scar through my eyebrow and Jace will never, ever get close to another duck again.”

“Remind me never to go running with you,” Magnus said as he blotted the tears from his cheeks.

“I get the feeling that won’t be a problem.”

Magnus accepted the glass Alec handed him and eased back in his chair. “True. I shun all physical activity as a rule.”

“Except when it involves orgasms, I’m sure.”

Magnus raised his glass in acknowledgement. “There’s an exception to every rule, Alexander.”

“So tell me. What are yours?”

“My rules or my exceptions?”

Alec was getting used to this. Magnus had this way of deflecting that was masterful in its subtlety. His intelligence was his best defense. If questions were hockey pucks, then Alec had taken quite a few shots on goal tonight, and Magnus had let very few of them slip through.

“Doesn’t formalizing an exception just make it a new rule?” Alec challenged him.

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “There are always exceptions to the exceptions.”

“So, really, there aren’t any rules.”

“You—” Magnus rubbed his forefinger and thumb together as he seemed to do when he was deep in thought. “You, Alexander, are too intelligent for my own good.”

Despite not getting an answer, Alec considered that shot on goal a success. “I think you enjoy things that aren’t good for you, Magnus.”

Magnus simply smirked and took another sip of wine.

 

****

 

“You lied to me!” Alec sputtered.

Magnus was offended, and he was happy to defend his point when Alec scrunched his face up adorably like he was doing now.

“I did not deceive you,” he asserted.

Alec pointed his fork at Magnus, glaring. “You did. You didn’t tell me that _The Charioteer_ is the gay version of _Twilight_.”

“First of all, no,” Magnus protested, holding back a smile. “That may be the most outlandish thing you’ve said tonight and I heard every word of the duck story. Second, you read _Twilight_?”

Alec speared a potato off Magnus’ plate. “Your aristocratic inclinations are showing, Magnus. I never read the books but saw all the movies. Izzy has a thing for vampires.”

“‘The gay version of _Twilight_ ,’” Magnus scoffed. He pushed his plate closer to Alec and rested his arms on the table. “Mary Renault has to be somersaulting in her grave.”

“It’s not Bella, Edward, and Jacob for sure, but I didn’t expect for there to be a love triangle.” Alec finished off the food on Magnus’ plate and sat back. “There’s so much hyper-intelligent subtext in this book. I went online to download a discussion guide and help me through all of it.”

Magnus preened. Alec had sought out additional information on a book Magnus had given him.

“How subtly she handles the relationships between Laurie and Ralph and Laurie and Andrew can be daunting to piece together,” Magnus allowed.

“That’s the thing—it isn’t for me. I thought I was missing something because everything I read online said it can be difficult to understand, but I get it. Maybe—” Alec rubbed at that spot on his left hand. “Maybe too well.”

Magnus had to rein in the urge to take Alec’s hand in his. To offer a new sensation from the numbness that was there. Maybe even a touch that could temper the echo of old wounds. He hadn’t even considered Alec’s closeting when he’d given that book to Alec. _The Charioteer_ was gay fiction, but a book that would’ve been banned had it been more forthright about the relationships it portrayed. That Alec could readily identify with the underpinnings of how heavily gay relationships had to be cloaked over sixty years ago—when it should’ve been very different for all of them now—was tragic.

It reminded Magnus that Alec didn’t want to be closeted, but didn’t know how not to be at this point in his life. It was a fact that Magnus would have to keep closer to his heart.

He resisted reaching across the table to comfort Alec, but barely.

“Well, now that you’ve finished your food and mine,” Magnus said, shifting the subject for both of their sakes, “do you want dessert?”

Alec picked his napkin off his lap and tossed it on his empty plate. “Actually, you said there’s dancing here?”

“There’s a nightclub in the basement. There’s also a library, private meeting rooms, a cigar bar, a spa, and a gym.”

Alec’s eyes went wide. “Is there a place like this in New York?”

“Of course. There are chapters in every major city, and some minor cities where there are pockets of wealth.”

“Maybe…. Maybe we can go to the one in New York when I’m home?”

Magnus should’ve had a different answer, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. “I’d like that.”

“On one condition, though.”

“Oh, and what is that?”

Alec’s eyes lit up. “You have to dance with me. Tonight.”

“Absolutely not,” Magnus replied. He was barely holding strong with Alec a table length away from him, let alone within touching distance.

“Magnus. This is my first time in a place that’s as close to a gay bar as I could get for a long time. I can’t dance alone—” Alec’s smile fell away. “Shit. You don’t want to dance with me.”

Magnus swore his heart skipped a beat. He had to tell Alec the truth, just like he always did, even if it was pushing against a boundary that Magnus was fighting desperately to maintain.

“There’s nothing I’d love more.”

 

****

 

The lights were pulsing, his limbs were pleasantly loose, and Magnus’ hand was clasped in his as Alec wove through across the dance floor for the back corner.

He’d never done this before—never dared to be seen anywhere in public holding another man’s hand—and it was a rush. His heart thudded in time to the driving bass as he turned, bringing Magnus in front of him.

Alec had been watching Magnus enough to know Magnus moved with ease. But he had no idea just how fluid, how graceful, Magnus could really be. Alec could hold his own thanks to Izzy, but Magnus could _dance_. Every movement a synchronous ripple from hips to feet, languid hands with rings that shone in the lights, necklaces swaying with the sensual twist ofhis torso, strips of golden skin revealed as Magnus matched the pounding rhythm of the music.

Song after song, Alec hungered for more. Wanted Magnus’ hands on him. Needed to know how they’d feel on his skin.

Alec lost track of time and let his inhibitions fall away, gradually closing the distance between them that Magnus seemed intent on maintaining.

“Come on, Bane,” he teased into Magnus’ ear. Magnus’ hair tickled at his cheek. “Stop holding back.”

A bead of sweat trickled down his spine as Magnus’ body pressed up against his.

Alec dropped lower, settling his hands on Magnus’ hips, and drew him even closer.

 

****

 

Devastating.

Everything about Alexander Lightwood was sheer, apocalyptical devastation.

Alec parted Magnus’ legs with a subtle shift of his knee, fitting them together tightly. Alec towered over him, sheltered him. Everything except the feeling of Alec’s body against his and the driving beat of the music disappeared. He circled his hands around Alec’s biceps and held on.

Alec’s hands gripped his hips, fingers teasing at the skin there, then hands inching up his torso in tentative exploration. Magnus dropped his forehead into the curve of Alec’s neck, lips grazing exposed skin when Alec ground against him. Maddening friction that was too much and not nearly enough….

If Magnus didn’t stop this now, there would be no turning back.

He dug his fingers into Alec’s chest, went up on his tiptoes and put his lips to Alec’s ear. “I think we need to go.”

Alec sucked in a ragged breath that Magnus could feel reverberating through his fingertips and into his bones.

“Yeah, I think so.”

 

****

 

Alec could barely remember how they’d made it into the elevator, let alone back to the hotel. He was sober, yet half-drunk—and it wasn’t the wine that left him feeling like his world was tilting on its axis. Being with Magnus was intoxicating in a completely different way.

It was like everything in Alec’s life was so clear and yet completely blurring out of focus. It made his head spin and his skin warm and he wanted _more_. But there were rules, and exceptions to those rules, and exceptions to those exceptions, and Alec had unknowingly dropped himself into a game in which he had no idea how to strategize.

There was no playbook when it came to Magnus Bane.

Magnus stood in the opening of the elevator, keeping the doors from closing, his back leaned against the jamb, arms crossed as he silently looked at Alec with a small, but exasperated, smile on his lips.

Alec moved to stand across from him in the cramped opening, settling his leg next to Magnus’ and sliding down until they were eye to eye. “Thank you for tonight.”

Magnus shook his head. “Thank _you_ for trusting me.”

“Always.” Alec leaned forward and set his hand on Magnus’ jaw, swiping his thumb across Magnus’ cheek, where the glitter eyeliner had started to flake. “I’m sorry for ruining your flawless aesthetic.”

Magnus closed his eyes at the touch, pressing into Alec’s hand, his lips opening just a fraction as he inhaled deeply.

“Magnus, I—” Alec began to say.

Magnus’ eyes snapped open. “Don’t.” His voice was soft. Regretful.

He circled his fingers around Alec’s wrist, pulling Alec’s hand away. He squeezed Alec’s hand once, and again—as if he was reluctant to let go at all—then stepped into the hallway. “I’ll see you in New York, Alexander.”

Every word Alec wanted to say felt like it was burning a path through his lungs in a desperate bid to escape. All he could manage to get out was, “See you there.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed Alec collapsed against the side.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself. “What the hell am I doing?”

 

*****

 

Magnus swore under his breath as the elevator doors closed.

His heart was beating out of control, his skin was tingling, he couldn’t catch his breath, and, _fuck_ , he could smell Alec’s cologne on him.

He trudged into his room to take a very, very cold shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.........
> 
> now is probably the time for me to remind you that i really wasn't lying when i said this would be a slow burn. and if you don't follow me on tumblr to get updates, then here's an overall update: as of now, my outline stands at 25 chapters. so we're at 9/25 of a sllloooooooooowwww burn. did i mention this is a slow burn? ~~don't kill me~~
> 
> as always, i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus has issues at work. alec has issues at work.
> 
> there are just a lot of *issues* in general for magnus and alec...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 32 of the shadowhunters hiatus, but i swear it's been a literal eternity. _fuck_
> 
> idek what to say here anymore....
> 
> this is almost 11k words....

“How was LA?”

Magnus paused at the windows overlooking Manhattan and considered Imogen’s question. The first words that came to mind were _intimate, erotic, maddening_ ….

“Productive,” he answered as he faced Imogen. “Aline has a very talented eye.”

“And? How did Alec handle the shoot?”

He leaned against the window and crossed his arms. “Better than the first. I think both campaigns will be a success.”

“Good. I assume there will be more to come with him.” Imogen took a seat in her imposing high-backed leather chair. She met his eyes, unflinching, and Magnus couldn’t read the intentions behind why she’d called him to her office.

While he wasn’t going to be forthcoming with all that had happened in LA, he had nothing to confess to her.

“In terms of endorsement deals we’re done until the playoffs are over,” he said in answer to her implied question. “I’m going to be focusing on his contract renewal before that.”

“I look forward to seeing what you’re able to negotiate.” Imogen swept her hand in front of her desk. “Take a seat, Magnus.”

Magnus crossed the massive office and settled into the chair opposite her, unbuttoning his suit jacket and crossing his legs. “I assume this is not a social call.”

“Very well. Let’s get into it. You’ve shown you can work between sectors and, frankly, that’s not a skill IE agents have excelled in. You’re a powerhouse, Magnus. You are the future of this organization.”

“Thank you,” he acknowledged. “I also assume praise is not the reason you called me here.”

Imogen pursed her lips at his abruptness. “It’s not. We’re switching your client list around….”

Magnus’ hearing fuzzed out for a heartbeat, a lightheadedness overtaking him that he had to tamp down.

He and Alec were on a temporary contract, but he was committed to protecting Alec as long as he was Alec’s agent. It didn’t matter how much he wanted Alec—how much he craved Alec’s hands on him again—he couldn’t go there. He was invested. Had come to care about Alec’s welfare as more than a client. He could guard Alec as his agent, but without that formalized relationship all of his power would be stripped away.

She wouldn’t take Alec away from him?

Would she?

“You are removing clients from me?” Magnus interrupted.

Imogen’s face was emotionless. “Yes. I met with the executive team this morning and we reviewed your portfolio. We’ve compiled a list of clients who will either be dropped from the agency or moved to other agents to maximize your time. You will also be provided a short list of prospective clients we need you to acquire.”

“Poaching? You are traversing a precipitous ledge, Imogen.”

“I’m aware. I’m also aware that you have the ability to manage the delicate balance needed to successfully acquire us the caliber of client we are in search of.”

Imogen handed Magnus a piece of paper and he scanned through the list, holding back a relieved breath when he saw Alec’s name under the heading Ongoing Development. The majority of his current clients fell in that list, and the three other categories—Reassignment, Termination, and Acquisition—had fewer names.

Magnus’ eyes caught on one particular name he hadn’t expected to see under Reassignment. “I’ll accept all of your changes except one. Tessa Gray remains with me. She’s in final auditions for a Broadway show and the producer has already reached out to me for a meeting. If you’re looking for me to rep higher level clients then Tessa will soon be of that echelon.”

“Then she stays with you.”

“I want to have personal conversations with each of them.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Magnus set the list aside. “This was a meeting I should’ve been a part of, Imogen.”

Imogen bristled like a cat who’d been pet in the wrong direction. “You weren’t because I don’t think you’re ready to make hard calls when it comes to your accounts. You are emotionally invested in your clients. That is an advantage that manifests in stronger relationships and also a weakness that muddies your judgement. I will manage your weakness until you’re able to improve in that area.”

Magnus held back a scathing reply as he stood. “I don’t share your point of view but we’ve never had to see eye to eye in order to be successful.”

Imogen was tight-lipped as she nodded. “Let’s continue with that success. For now, I need you to focus on working through Alec to get to more of the Angels players. You’re in the spotlight, Magnus. It’s time to perform.”

 

****

 

Magnus managed to exit Imogen’s office without launching himself across the desk to throttle the callous harpy. Barely. He couldn’t help Alec, Tessa, or any of his clients if he was fired.

He strode toward his office, visualizing how his schedule needed to shift to accommodate conversations with his clients who would be dropped or moved.

Clary surged to her feet when she caught sight of him. “Magnus, I have to—”

He held up his hand, stopping her from saying anything else as he continued to his office door. “Not now, Clary. I need you to get Tessa on the line immediately.”

“Magnus!”

He froze, his palm circled around the handle, and leveled her with a gaze she didn’t back down from.

“You have someone waiting for you in your office. Sebastian Morgenstern.”

Magnus backed away from the door, glaring at her.

“In my office?” he hissed quietly. “Now?”

Clary fidgeted this time. “He refused to wait out here.”

Magnus took a deep breath and cracked his neck. “Well. This day is exceeding all of my expectations.” He stood tall, adjusted his lapels and buttoned his jacket. “Please reach out to Tessa for me and set up a time for us to talk in person. Today if possible, tomorrow at the latest.”

“Tomorrow is the game,” she reminded him.

“I’m aware. You have my schedule—work around it.”

“Do you need an out, you know”—Clary tipped her head toward Magnus’ office—“with him.”

“He has impeccable timing. I think _he_ may need the out.” Magnus opened his door and stepped inside. “Morgenstern. I believe the ending to our last conversation was more than conclusive.”

Sebastian turned lazily in his chair, arms draped over the rests and legs crossed. “I wasn’t happy with the result.”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with me,” Magnus replied.

“I have a proposal for Alec Lightwood that I’d like to present to him in person.”

Magnus took his seat and faced Sebastian. “You’re in person with me and I speak for Alec. You can present it now.”

Sebastian leaned forward, tossing a piece of paper on Magnus’ desk. “I present to you—a check.”

Magnus picked up the check and stared at it, dumbfounded.

If Imogen was a harpy then, in this moment, Sebastian was their smug bastard king. “Does that have enough zeroes to earn me a moment of Mr. Lightwood’s time?”

 

****

 

“Stop talking and make sure that doesn’t fucking drop on my head, Jace.” Alec ground his teeth together, pressing the heavily-weighted bar into his second to last rep.

Jace peered down at him, his lip curled cheekily. “Don’t let go of it and it won’t smash that pretty face.”

Alec clanked the bar into the supports, arms burning, and Jace tapped his cheek. “My turn.”

“Actually, I was hoping it could be my turn.”

Every exhausted nerve in Alec’s body lit up at the sound of Magnus’ voice. Alec swiped a towel from the floor, eyes landing on Magnus, who stood in the entrance to the arena’s gym.

Alec grinned, then schooled his features when he remembered there were three other Angels’ players in the room. “Mixing with the riffraff today, huh?”

Magnus sniffed. “There is the distinctive scent of blue-collar in the air.”

Alec held back another smile and stood, wiping the towel across his face and over his bare chest. He’d started his work out wearing a loose tank top and gym shorts, but he’d discarded his shirt halfway through his five miles on the treadmill. He wasn’t sure where his shirt was at this point and…he didn’t care. He wanted to see Magnus’ reaction to him, especially with how they’d parted in LA.

Then, he’d been sure Magnus was checking him out. Now, he was just as sure Magnus _wasn’t_. Magnus’ eyes didn’t graze lower than socially acceptable levels.

Alec frowned.

Next to him, Jace cleared his throat and Alec realized he’d let a beat of silence fall that he never did when he was around someone he found attractive.

Alec shifted on his feet. “Jace, this Magnus Bane. Magnus, Jace Wayland.”

Jace swiped his hand on his shorts and shook hands with Magnus. “You’re the agent, right?”

“And you’re the heavenly fire of the Blazing Angels.”

Jace puffed up at the description and leaned in, lowering his voice. “You think you could give me your assistant’s number?”

“I’m fairly sure if you call my office that biscuit is the one who will answer.”

“Biscuit?” Jace barked out a laugh then turned to Alec, perplexed. “I thought you said her name was Clary?”

One of these days Alec was going to have to clue Magnus in on why every hockey player would laugh at Magnus’ nickname for Clary.

“It’s Clary,” he confirmed.

Jace’s face brightened. “Cool.”

Alec stepped around the benchpress, peeking at the other two Angels to see if they were paying attention to him—if he’d triggered any red flags—but both seemed intent on the TVs above the treadmills. He found his tank and flipped it over his shoulder just as he heard Jace say, “Look, I heard about what you’ve done for Alec. It’s good.”

Magnus glanced at Alec—his features were…impassive. Nothing like how Magnus had looked at him at the club, or even after.

“It is what Alec pays me for.”

Alec restrained a wince.

“So you think you could hook me up with Clary? Networking is an agent’s thing, right?”

Magnus slipped a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Jace. “I’m not a dating service, but if you wish to discuss business then call my office, Mr. Wayland.”

“Thanks.” Jace flipped the card between his fingers.

Alec crossed his arms. “What can I do for you, Magnus?”

Magnus’ eyes were still locked to his, as if they were incapable of skimming any lower than Alec’s nose. “I was hoping you had time to talk.”

Alec didn’t answer right away and Jace’s eyes darted between Magnus and Alec.

Jace hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to go over here now.”

Shit. _That_ was a red flag Alec was going to have to deal with later.

“So you stopped by,” Alec said wryly. “Instead of texting.”

Magnus smirked. “Naturally.”

Alec shook his head and chuckled lowly now that it was just the two of them. “I’ve got a couple hours until the team meeting. Walk with me while I cool off. I’ll show you around.”

“It was delightful to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wayland,” Magnus called out. Jace gave a distracted wave as he talked to the other two players.

Magnus brushed against him as they went through the gym doors, leaning in to whisper, “Clary will ruin him.”

He looked down at Magnus as the doors closed behind them—felt every millimeter of where Magnus’ shoulder was pressed against his arm, and that Magnus wasn’t rushing to pull away from the contact—and finally let a smile go. “I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

Magnus’ eyes flitted to Alec’s lips and he took a step back, fiddling with his ear cuff. “You were going to give me the five cent tour?”

_There._

Alec knew Magnus well enough now to recognize when Magnus’ walls went up. And you only needed walls if you had something inside to protect….

Alec kept his shirt slung over his shoulder instead of putting it on. “Yeah, follow me.”

“Where is everyone else?” Magnus asked as they walked down the empty hallway.

“We had practice this morning and now we’re taking a break. Most of the guys took off for a bit before we get back into meetings tonight.”

“But you stayed.”

Alec nodded.

“Does your stern Russian godfather Tarasov have anything to do with this?”

He did, but Magnus already knew that. “I don’t leave the arena unless I have to. Jace is the same.”

“More superstitions, Hagrid?”

Alec ran his hand over his beard—trimmed but growing thicker by the day. “I have a lot of them.”

“Any particular”—Magnus waved his hands in the air—“pre-games mythologies I should be aware of as not to trip up your rituals?”

The question was innocent enough, but the answer that immediately popped into Alec’s head _wasn’t_.

“I do… But—” Alec felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Never mind. None you need to be aware of. Here, let me show you the locker room.”

Magnus surveyed him with an arched eyebrow, but didn’t push Alec to answer.

“There’s an entrance to Garroway’s office there,” Alec pointed out. “One in the hallway too. He likes the threat of him always listening to keep us in line. Shower room is through there, benches, and my locker.”

Magnus ran a blue nail polish tipped finger down the edge of the only picture Alec had in his cubby—he, Izzy, Simon, and Max at the place they’d rented in Maine last summer.

“Utilitarian, organized, and meticulously unpersonalized. It’s very…you.”

Alec couldn’t disagree. “Most of my gear doesn’t fit in here. I store it in the equipment room. Some goalies carry everything with them all the time, but strangely enough I don’t have superstitions when it comes to my gear.”

“None?”

“Okay. I take that back. I always carry this with me.” He lifted his mask off the highest shelf. “I use the cat-eye style cage.”

Magnus held out his hands, twirling his fingers. “May I?”

Alec handed it over and Magnus settled the mask in place over his head. Magnus wearing his gear was…hot. _Of course it was_. Alec shook his head in disbelief. “You look good with cat eyes.”

Magnus wrinkled his nose. “This, Alexander, stinks.”

Alec burst out laughing. “All hockey gear does. But goalie stuff is the worst. You get used to it.”

“I don’t think this matches my ensemble.” Magnus swiveled his head around as if he was searching for something, then made his way to a mirror set between banks of lockers. “Am I as intimidating as you in this?”

“You don’t need that to be intimidating,” Alec answered honestly. “I mean, I can’t pin down exactly what look you’re going for all the time. You’re always accessorized and so put together, but it’s like…. I don’t know. You look different every time I see you. But yeah. You’re intimidating without that.”

“I wasn’t aware you were studying me that closely, Alexander.” Magnus lifted the mask off, settling it in the crook of his arm as he fixed his hair in the mirror. “Although I suppose it’s only fair—I have seen you nearly naked more than I’ve seen you clothed.”

Was that flirting or the pattern of banter they fell into so easily when it was just the two of them? Alec tossed his tank top into his duffel bag, pulled his Angels hoodie out of his locker and shrugged it on.

“You don’t have to get dressed for me.”

Heat crawled up Alec’s neck. _That_ was flirting. Whether or not Magnus flirted with any end goal in mind—or if it was merely a distraction technique—still wasn’t clear to Alec, though. He shook his head. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be so…open with me, but back there…in the gym—? How did you walk in there and pretend you weren’t even looking at any of the men?”

Magnus tipped his head and handed the mask back to Alec. “How do you do it?”

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.” He slid the mask on its shelf, grimacing. “That was insulting, wasn’t it?”

“To some it would be. I understand that talking about all of this is rather new for you.”

“I guess.” Alec zipped up his hoodie. “Come on. Let me show you the inside of the arena. I didn’t give you a chance the last time you were here.”

Alec led Magnus through the tunnel and out past the boards. The rink was quiet. Illuminated in low lights instead of the glare of game time. The surface was glassy smooth and unmarked from Simon’s last zamboni run.

Magnus tilted his head back, surveying the banners hanging from the arena rafters. The names and numbers of retired players. Conference championships that went back forty years. But no league championship banners. Not yet.

Alec wasn’t looking at the rafters, though—he had those empty spots memorized. He was staring at Magnus, and he couldn’t look away.

Magnus had a small smile on his lips when he peeked at Alec. “Why did you choose to be a goalie?”

Alec’s face flamed at being caught staring by Magnus. He huffed out a nervous laugh and scratched at his beard. “I wanted to spend more time here—on the ice. Other positions play in shifts. They’re on and off the ice throughout the game. But my skates don’t leave it unless I get pulled.” Alec shrugged. “And that doesn’t happen.”

“I know. I’ve seen your statistics.”

“I wasn’t aware you were studying me that closely,” he retorted.

Magnus ran his tongue along the bottom of his teeth, unsuccessfully hiding another smirk, then clacked his mouth shut around whatever he’d been about to say.

Alec slid forward and spun around so he was facing Magnus. Even though he was wearing shoes, not skates, the slipperiness was familiar beneath his feet. He glided across the ice pointing out spots for Magnus. “That is the crease, the blue line, center line. The circles are where the faceoffs are— But I’m guessing you already know all of those from the games you’ve been watching. Home bench and away.” Alec faced the other side of the ice, pointing to a glass encased box. “And that is the sin bin.”

Magnus raised his eyebrows. “If you wanted me to be enamored with hockey that should’ve been the first stop on your tour.”

Alec bit at his lip to hold back a laugh. _He_ was way too fucking enamored with Magnus in this moment. “You probably know it as the penalty box—where players go when they get certain penalties.”

“How much time have you spent in there?”

“Goalies don’t go into the box.”

“So you’re saying you’ve never spent any time”—Magnus dropped his voice lower—“in the sin bin?”

Alec rolled his eyes at the awful innuendo. “Let me show you my favorite part of the arena.”

 

****

 

Magnus felt a bit woozy from how high they were. Or maybe it was Alec. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore.

“Alexander,” he huffed, winded from the mountainous trek up too many flights of stairs. He dropped heavily into a hard plastic chair. “These are the worst seats in the whole arena.”

Alec grinned, sitting down next to him. “I know.”

“And this is your favorite place?”

Alec eased back in the royal blue plastic seat and draped one leg over the seat in front of him. “It’s just….”—He waved his right hand in front of him and looked at Magnus—“I came from nothing, you know? I was the tiny kid who wasn’t great at anything when I was growing up. Then I found hockey, and I started to get taller, but I was still _different_. My parents were always working, completely focused on their own lives. Success and uplifting the Lightwood name were all they ever drummed into me, Izzy, and Max. We were their secondary consideration on good days. I guess I like it here because it reminds me of where I came from, and also reminds me that there are people just like I used to be sitting in these seats who are working hard for something better.”

Magnus pulled at the cuffs of his shirt, leaning closer to the warmth of Alec next to him to ward off the chill. “Goalies don’t have the same glory other players do.”

“Goalies have a reputation for being a little unstable,” Alec said with a smirk.

“Are you?”

“Maybe a bit more than the usual person,” Alec allowed. “I mean, I put my body between a tiny net and frozen discs of plastic flying at insane speeds. I love this game so much, though, and I couldn’t be any other position because it took too much out of me. A goalie has to be okay with being alone yet very focused on the team as a whole. Being a goalie works with who I am.”

“You’re a leader.”

Alec scoffed. “I’m not.”

Magnus left Alec’s assertion unchallenged—for now. Convincing Alec to see his own value would take more than a one sentence platitude. It was evident to him that Alec saw his failures much clearer than his successes. It was a trait that fascinated Magnus. Alec had so much to be proud of, and yet it was as if he was incapable of seeing his own worth.

All Magnus could see when he looked at Alec now was immeasurable value. He saw Alec for everything he was in this moment. Everything he could be in the future. And….

Magnus’ breath caught.

Everything _they_ could be.

He wanted to date Alec, not just _be_ with him.

“Magnus?”

Magnus dragged himself out of his reverie—of thinking of what _could be_ —and refocused on Alec. An Alec that had gone from playful, to forthright, to suddenly…confused?

“Yes?”

“There’s this thing I’ve been…. Something I haven’t asked you.”

“And you’re afraid it may be insulting?” Magnus tried.

“Maybe? But I don’t think so.”

“You can ask me anything, Alexander.”

Alec brought both his feet to the floor, leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees, and caught Magnus’ eyes in a determined gaze. “How did you know I was gay?”

Magnus took a deep breath and answered honestly. “The way you looked at me.”

Alec furrowed his brow. “I _hated_ you.”

“Exactly.”

Alec opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He began to knead at his left hand as he stared out at the ice. “Shit. I’m sorry, Magnus. I’m sorry for everything I said to you and how I treated you when we first met. I’m sorry that I was one of the people who judged you before knowing you. I was so wrong and I don’t even know where to begin or end apologizing.” Alec hesitated. “I’m sorry that the way I looked at you reminded you of things you wanted to forget.”

Magnus was stunned. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Alec smiled sadly. “There are pieces of my…experience I see in you too.”

Magnus wasn’t aware he’d given that much away.

“I’ve coaxed very private information from you, Alexander,” Magnus prompted him. “You have my permission to ask the same of me.”

Alec nodded. “Okay. Then besides my money and potential influence, why does it bother you so much that I’m not out?”

Magnus crossed his legs, flicking a piece of lint off his knee. Alec had asked and he would answer—no matter how uncomfortable it made him. “Her name was Camille. She was the one who _never_ should have been, not the one who got away. I stepped back into the closet, willingly, for her. She didn’t believe bisexuals could ever be faithful, and I thought I loved her, so I pretended to be something I’m not. It’s all very ironic, considering she was the one who cheated on me. A ‘dalliance’ she called it—as if that made it less of a betrayal. I denied who I was for someone who never gave all of herself to me. I’ll never do that again.”

Alec cringed. “I’m sorry I remind you of that.”

“You look at me very differently now,” he reassured Alec.

“I see the real you and I’m…. I’m grateful you came into my life.”

Magnus felt his heartbeat in his fingertips. He kept his hands on his lap instead of reaching out for Alec. “I feel the same, Alexander.”

Alec sat back in his seat, edging over until he was shoulder to shoulder with Magnus. When he looked at Magnus they were only inches apart, and Magnus could trace the details of the jagged line of darker brown that circled Alec’s eyes. Could verify the perfect symmetry of Alec’s lips when he smiled.

“You know what’s crazy? I actually _like_ you calling me Alexander. Until I met you, that name only brought up bad memories. But you always say it with this…depth of emotion that changes the way I hear it. I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

Alec was too close. Magnus was too invested.

But he couldn’t pull away.

“Things have been heated between us from the first second,” Magnus admitted.

Alec’s gaze flickered to Magnus’ lips. “They have.”

There were two months left on his contract with Alec.

He would see Alec through the playoffs and his contract negotiation, then he could think about another agent taking Alec on. Then, he could hope that Alec would be ready to come out. Then, he could explore everything he saw in Alec that he wanted to know more about. Two months from now, he could consider that there was so much more that _could be_.

But for now….

Magnus drew back. “Alexander, I wish this were not the case, but I didn’t just come here for this. We have something we need to talk about.”

 

****

 

Alec had barely slept last night.

Between nerves about the first game of the playoffs and the meeting with Sebastian Morgenstern set for this morning, he’d been more anxious than he was used to powering through.

Then there was Magnus….

Every second he spent with Magnus left Alec breathless and excited and _wanting_ ….

Yet left him more confused about a path in life he’d been so sure of.

He groaned. Rubbed at his eyes and rolled out of bed and into the shower, setting the water as warm as it could go without scalding him. He made quick work of cleaning—and taking care of _himself_ , as was the game day ritual he’d never tell Magnus about—and got ready, paying as little attention to his reflection as he could. He pulled a baseball cap on so he wouldn’t have to bother with his hair and headed out.

By the time he made it to the coffee shop down a few blocks from his apartment, Magnus was already there—waiting and looking much more put together than Alec did.

Alec took a deep breath and sat down in the chair kitty-corner from him. “Hey.”

Magnus frowned when he took stock of Alec. He slid a cup across the table to Alec. “I took a shot and ordered for you—black coffee with sugar.”

How the hell did Magnus instinctively know how Alec liked his coffee?

“You’re up—two to three,” he said with a tired smile. “I’ll need the caffeine today. Thanks.”

“Mr. Lightwood?”

Alec clenched his jaw and turned toward the voice. The man standing next to the table—a younger, more callous looking version of Valentine Morgenstern—set his teeth on edge.

“Mr. Morgenstern,” he acknowledged. He didn’t stand, didn’t offer his hand.

Sebastian didn’t seem fazed by Alec’s unwelcoming greeting. “Good morning, Magnus.”

Magnus settled back in his chair, appearing even more unaffected than Sebastian. Even with the man towering above him, Magnus was the one at the table in control. “Some parts, yes.”

Sebastian sat down in the seat closest to Alec and across the table from Magnus. “I know you have a game today, so I’ll get right to it.” He reached into his suit pocket and placed a piece of paper on the table, sliding it in front of Alec. “This is a check for a million dollars. It’s all we’ve been able to recover so far. I wish it were everything.”

Alec had expected this because of Magnus, but that foreknowledge had turned his stomach last night and it made him even sicker to see that amount in person. Alec swallowed some of his coffee to keep down the bile rising in his throat.

“We’d like you back as a client, Alec, and this is a first step to re-earning your trust.”

“Trust?” Alec scoffed, refusing to touch the check. “There is no amount of money that will _earn_ any trust from me.”

“I believe that’s the same answer I gave you yesterday, Morgenstern,” Magnus calmly added.

Sebastian’s cool gaze slipped from Magnus back to Alec. Alec shivered at the sheer blackness of Sebastian’s eyes. “I didn’t share with Magnus the entirety of our peace offering yesterday, Alec. We’d also like to open up negotiations with your brother.”

Alec gaped and looked to Magnus for a clue on what was going on. Magnus was visibly inhaling through his nose, his jaw twitching.

“What do you want with Max?” Alec asked, his skin crawling with dread.

“We understand he’s been shopping for capital for his start-up.”

“What? What does that have to do with you?”

Sebastian ran manicured fingernails through his blond hair. “He has an idea—a good idea—and we want in. I’d like to speak to him about me becoming an angel investor for him, and Morgenstern & Morgenstern signing on as a venture capitalist. I have half a million to offer, and the firm has three million we’re willing to consider investing. ” Sebastian relaxed back in his seat, set one hand on the table and thrummed his fingers as he stared Alec down. “We also have the leverage in the finance community to ensure Max is…protected from other investors.”

Alec balled his fist then felt Magnus’ hand on his arm, silently urging him to remain calm.

“That,” Magnus jumped in, “is thinly veiled code for blackballing Max Lightwood from other firms if he doesn’t accept your proposal. Be careful where you choose to tread.”

Sebastian didn’t address Magnus or correct himself. He kept his soulless eyes locked on Alec. “The million dollars is yours, Alec. A good faith repayment that I’d like to keep separate from the legal proceedings. What my father did was unconscionable. I’d like to see you, Max, and my firm benefit in some way from this travesty.”

“One million dollars to Alec and three and a half to Max,” Magnus said through clenched teeth. “It is a conveniently coincidental amount, Morgenstern.”

Sebastian smiled.

Alec couldn’t take anymore. He flung the check back at Sebastian. “Fuck you. You want to make a real peace offering? Contact the cops or attorneys and make sure your father never leaves prison. I don’t want anything you’ve touched. As for Max? Stay the fuck away from him. He doesn’t want your money either.”

Alec abruptly stood, his chair careening to the floor. He heard Magnus say _I believe that definitely concludes our business_ as he crashed through the doors and onto the street, waiting from Magnus.

As soon as he had Magnus at his side, Alec stalked away from the coffee shop. Fuming. “It’s like he’s— He’s _blackmailing_ me, Magnus. That’s my money. Money I would’ve given to Max without a thought if he asked for it. Sebastian Morgenstern has four and a half million dollars that he’s offering up as if that amount is pennies in his pocket, when it’s almost _exactly_ what Hodge and his father took from me. What it took me seven years to earn! And how many of his other former clients is he doing this with? Fuck!”

Alec came to a stop on the sidewalk. Magnus reached out for him, drawing him out of the stream of people. “I had no idea he would try to use Max against you.”

“I know you didn’t.” Magnus’ hand was still twined with his and he felt Magnus’ hold on him loosen, so Alec gripped tighter. He needed the reassurance of Magnus’ steadiness right now. He _needed_ Magnus. He let out a long breath. “You’re coming to the game tonight, right?”

Magnus nodded. “I’m meeting Isabelle and Max before the game for dinner.”

“Max can’t know about this yet, okay?” Alec insisted. “Let me talk to him first.”

“Okay,” Magnus agreed. He pulled his hand out of Alec’s and began to twist his rings. “If you aren’t opposed to the idea, I’d also like to notify the state attorney’s office about this meeting after you talk to Max.”

“Fuck every living Morgenstern. Go right ahead.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said quietly. “I didn’t expect you to make any other choice today, but I don’t think it should go unsaid that not many people would’ve made the same decision.”

“It was the right choice.”

“It was.”

Alec turned over Magnus’ words in his head. “And you expected that from me?”

“Of course. I’m sorry you have to deal with this at all. I’ll do everything in my power to assist you.”

“I know you’re sorry and I know you’re doing everything you can to help me. I told you, Magnus—I trust you.” Alec lifted his baseball cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. Magnus’ belief in him…. It calmed him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, you only have another two months to find out,” Magnus said with a delicate twist of his hands.

Alec froze. He searched Magnus’ face. “What? Why?”

“That’s when your temporary contract with me runs out—”

“Didn’t Imogen tell you?” Alec interrupted. “I signed a two-year extension with IE when I got back to New York. And I told them I wouldn’t work with anyone besides you.” Alec took in the grimace on Magnus’ face, his stomach dropping. “I didn’t— I thought that was something you’d be….” His shoulders slumped. “I’m lost here, Magnus.”

“No, Alec. It’s fine. I’m just surprised because I had a meeting with Imogen yesterday and she didn’t mention it.”

Magnus rearranged his reaction into something that could’ve soothed someone who didn’t know Magnus—who couldn’t see how Magnus really felt—but Alec did.

Alec frowned. “Magnus….”

Magnus took in a stuttered breath, that made Alec’s chest clench painfully. “We work well together. I look forward to building an even stronger business partnership over the next two years.”

 

****

 

Magnus pushed through the arena turnstile behind Isabelle, all of his senses bombarded at once. The walkways circling the arena were a swirling mass of people in the white and blue of the Angels’ home uniforms, interspersed with the red and black of the visiting Devils. Voices jumbled together in a dull roar, he was jostled with the hurried movement of smiling fans, and the scent of fried foods and sour beer filled the air.

It was overwhelming, exasperating, and yet a complete rush—a fitting parallel to the man Magnus was here to watch play.

“He’s making that face again, Iz,” Max sing-songed next to him.

Magnus scowled at Max. “I told you. This is my game face.”

“You’re lying, _mijo_ ,” Izzy said. She grabbed his hand and started pulling him away from the entrance. “We’re all nervous—it’s okay. You know how many outfits I went through before deciding on this?”

“You look stunning,” he reassured her. The bright blue of her Angels t-shirt—with white wings printed on the back—set off her dark hair, and her white jeans hugged every enviable curve, heightened by the knee-high boots with silver stilettos she gracefully perched on.

“Hey,” Max protested. He waved a hand clasped around a hot dog up and down the same Angels hoodie Magnus had seen him in for every game. “This took me forever too.”

Izzy narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Where did you even get that hot dog?”

“Some guy—”

Izzy held up her free hand. “Stop right there. I don’t want to know.”

Max took a gigantic bite of the mystery meat and Izzy made a gagging noise.

Not even the opportunity for a meat-based cock innuendo could make Magnus smile. Really, it was nearly impossible to be sullen when surrounded by the Lightwoods, but Magnus was managing to hold tight to his shit mood.

Magnus frowned as they passed by the elevators marked for the suites. “Aren’t we going up?” 

“We are,” Izzy answered. “But not to the suites. We’re in the cheap seats.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. Those were supposed to be players’ tickets in Max’s non-hot dog hand. Magnus had expected they would be within throwing distance of either the ice or a decent bar. With a two year contract extension now looming in his future he could use a gallon of _any_ liquor right now.

“Alec always switches out our seats before the game,” Max explained, waving their tickets. “He gives fans his seats—by the boards or in one of the suites. We sit wherever their tickets were.”

Interesting.

So that’s what it felt like to have his heartstrings ripping his severely wounded organ out of his chest….

Magnus sighed. “Of course he does.”

Isabelle looped her arm in his and Magnus tried not to scowl deeper as he allowed her to lead him to the escalators.

 

****

 

Alec flipped through his messages again. There was a selfie of Simon and Clary on the zamboni—in the maintenance room where she always hung out with him during games. Izzy’s usual _you got this_ followed by a line of hearts. Max’s blatant abuse of emojis. And from Magnus….

One picture of Izzy and Max, their arms looped around each other as they entered the arena. Magnus had caught them turned toward each other, bright smiles on their faces, as they queued to get inside.

He wished he’d gotten something from Magnus to give him a hint of how Magnus looked tonight. If he was smiling. Whether that smile was real or forced. What he was wearing. How his hair was done. How many necklaces and rings he’d piled on, or completely left off. What color glitter he’d chosen to dust across his pecs—

Although, maybe it was better that he hadn’t….

“Something wrong, Alec?” Jace said.

Alec exited out of his texts and clicked off his phone. He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Ready to get out there.”

Jace stitched his brows together and sat down next to Alec. “You sure about that? I haven’t seen you this checked out before a game in weeks.”

There were too many things swirling around his head for him to catch on to any one thought for too long, but it was having Magnus _here—_ in the arena _—_ that repeated the most. Hodge had _never_ come to a game and Magnus was in those stands with Izzy and Max. More like a boyfriend would be than an agent….

He was unfocused, scattered, and he needed to get his head together before they took to the ice.

“Just…stuff and…things,” he evaded. “Nothing important. I’m good.”

Jace tilted his head as if he was thinking deeply about how to respond, then shrugged. “Whatever.” He patted Alec’s face, Alec’s cheeks already reddened from the Angels’ pre-game ritual. “We got this, bro.”

Alec forced a smile. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

 

****

 

“I think I need an oxygen tank up here,” Magnus sputtered out as they took their seats in the very last row of the arena. They were on the opposite side of the ice from where he and Alec had sat yesterday—even higher than the row Alec had led him to.

“Give me a break,” Izzy said. “I just did all those stairs in heels.”

Max huffed. “Dude. I did all of those with only one leg.”

Magnus rolled his eyes at both of them. “You Lightwoods are a competitive bunch, aren’t you?”

His head was already spinning from the trek to the top, the thin air, and the steep angle of the seating this far up, then the lights went out, a cacophony of twenty-thousands voices screaming out at once—ricocheting off the concrete walls—making his ears ring. The Angels flew out of the tunnel onto the ice with crashing music, the roar of the crowd, and lights swirling around them as they were introduced.

“…And in goal tonight, number eighty nine, Alec Lightwood.”

Max whooped and Izzy did a screeching whistle, her pointer fingers planted between her lips.

Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off Alec. He was used to the way Alec flowed across the ice, his pre-game ritual of tapping the camera in the back of the net and etching grooves into the crease. He was used to Izzy and Max’s ridiculous dance as they mimicked him. He was used to the heavy anticipation that settled into his chest as he waited for the puck to drop.

He wasn’t used to the worry that overtook him as he took stock of a Devils’ player carving a sheet of ice at Alec as he swept by. It was a blatant taunt—a challenge—and served to remind Magnus just how aggressive this sport was. How real the threat of injury always was.

If he could have conjured up some sort of barrier to keep Alec safe he would have. He was feeling protective of the self-proclaimed unstable goalie, that he potentially wanted to date, who was a closeted friend that would also be his client for the next two years. The list of reasons why he should’ve been able to emotionally separate himself from Alec was growing, and yet he _couldn’t_. Magnus felt his knees go weak at the thought of two more years of this….

_Fuck._

Maybe Imogen had been right.

 

****

 

Alec knew exactly where they were sitting—that was his first problem. There was no way he’d be able to see Izzy, Max, or Magnus from the ice, but that didn’t keep him from glancing to that corner when he was in the net facing their section. He was still covering, still making saves, but he was losing track of the puck as it bounced between players. His defense—used to hearing him call out a constant stream of warnings—kept glancing his way seeking instruction, but Alec was having trouble focusing on what was happening right now, let alone two or three plays ahead.

Problem two—he couldn’t get Sebastian Morgenstern’s haughty smile out of his head. His abrasive air of entitlement—as if _Alec_ owed him. Then there was problem three—Max. Fighting to do something good with this life—so fucking unselfish—and being threatened by someone that should have never had any ties to him at all, but he did because of Alec.

And four…. Magnus. Up in those stands, at his first sporting event, likely wearing something that was out of place and garish and _beautiful_. Sitting with Alec’s siblings. Literally watching over him right now and always watching _out_ for him. He knew whatever this was between him and Magnus—curiosity? attraction? lust?—that it wasn’t just one-sided. He _knew_ that. But it didn’t matter because Alec wasn’t out and it was possible he’d never have the courage to be.

Magnus would never live another lie, and Alec didn’t want him to.

_Shit._

Focus.

He had to focus.

Then the Devils’ left winger was suddenly screaming down at the ice at him and Alec dropped into a butterfly, the puck clanking against the edge of his skate and rebounding up and over, heading for the net. Alec whipped back his mitt and caught the side of the puck sending it tumbling, where Pangborn was finally able to get his stick on it and clear it out.

The buzzer ending the first period sounded and Alec drug himself to his feet, mentally preparing for the lashing he’d take from Garroway in the intermission.

 

****

 

“He’s slower tonight,” Max said as he finished off another tray of nachos. “Has his knee been okay?”

Izzy shook her head, her elaborate braid—threaded with blue and white ribbons—swinging. “He hasn’t said anything about it to me lately.”

Magnus huffed. A problem with Alec’s knee seemed like something Hodge should’ve had in his files.

He glanced at the scoreboard—ten minutes left in the second period, zeros on both sides of the board—and took another deep drink from the rum-filled blue slushie in his hand. “What’s wrong with his knee?”

Max gestured for Magnus’ drink and Magnus passed it down. Max took a sip, wincing just like his brother did, and passed it back. “Nothing major. Player slammed into him a few seasons back and it’s been touchy since then. The farther it gets into the season the harder it is for him, but their trainer works with him on it.”

A guy in the row in front of them turned his head. “I remember that hit. Punk ass bitch took a cheap shot on Lightwood because they couldn’t get through him. Still one of the best brawls I’ve seen here. Angels don’t let anyone fuck with their goalie.”

Max raised an eyebrow in Magnus’ direction as if to say _see I told you_ and fist bumped the guy.

But it took only minutes before the same guy was cursing the day Alec was born as the red light lit up behind the Angels’ net and the Devils put the first goal on the board.

 

****

 

Alec was unraveling and he was taking the whole team with him.

The Devils’ second goal came on a rebound. The third on a breakaway.

Both were shots he’d been denying all season. Both were instances where the Angels’ defense would usually look to him to make a call on how best to protect the net—but the guidance Alec had been giving them the entire game was just _wrong_ —and they’d ignored his calls, leading to a breakdown in the defensive zone.

He was finally able to push thoughts of anything besides the game out of his head, but only because his brain was overrun with with how much he was failing his teammates. How much he was disappointing the fans.

The Devils picked up on the Angels’ disarray quickly. Adjusting their play into a full on attack that left Angels smashed against the boards, scurrying to intercept. The Devils shots were low—seeking a score on a rebound—and usually the Angels could sweep those out of play before an opponent got their stick back to take a shot, but the Devils were faster, their hits more bruising.

The fourth goal gave the Devils’ center Blackwell a hat trick and shattered the last pieces of Alec’s confidence.

There was twelve minutes left in the third period and the Angels hadn’t managed to score one goal yet tonight. They were going to lose their first playoff game, at home, in a post season they were supposed to _own_.

All because of Alec.

 

****

 

Magnus’ childish frustration had started to drain out of him somewhere around the third goal, and as the fifth one slid in, all he was was worried about Alec.

Izzy gaped at the scoreboard, then turned on Magnus—eyes flashing. “You saw him earlier today, right? What the hell happened?”

Magnus didn’t know how to answer her.

“Well?” Izzy railed.

He’d already failed Alec by allowing that meeting with Sebastian to happen this morning, he wouldn’t betray the one thing Alec had asked him to stay quiet on.

Magnus shook his head. “You’re going to have to talk to him, Isabelle.”

Izzy turned her back on him as the arena started to empty of white and blue. The fans clad in red surged to their feet as the last minutes ticked off and the final buzzer sounded.

“Shit,” Max swore and stomped off.

Izzy let loose a torrent of Spanish words that Magnus was fairly sure were all profane, and slumped in her chair. She watched Max retreat down the stairs then hooked her arm through Magnus’, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I went off on you there. You were right—Lightwoods are competitive. We don’t take loss well.”

Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off the tunnel, where Alec had disappeared without even removing his mask as soon as the game was over. “Alexander will be tearing himself apart right now.”

“Don’t text him, and don’t call him,” Izzy implored. “Believe me, we’ve been through this enough times to learn the hard way. He needs to do whatever he does to get ready for game two tomorrow. Shit. This is going to be ugly.”

He settled his arm over her shoulder and hugged her close.

“Look on the positive side, darling,” he tried. “We both get to go shopping again.”

 

****

 

The silence of Magnus’ cell was deafening.

Alec had always texted him back after a game—regardless of whether it was a win or a loss. But tonight was different. Magnus knew Alec considered this _his_ loss.

He held his phone in his hands considering, for a brief moment, Isabelle’s advice and that he should probably listen to her. Instead, he typed out message after message in his text thread with Alec, deleting them all for being too dismissive or too vapid, until he finally gave up and threw his cell onto his coffee table.

He stood to make a drink, trying to unwind, when it occurred to him exactly what Alec probably needed to hear right now.

_Green tea with lemon and honey tomorrow morning instead of coffee?_

He dropped his cell onto the table again and went for the kitchen, but his notifications pinged almost immediately. He took two steps back and picked up his phone, his heart racing when he saw it was a reply from Alec.

_How about now?_

Magnus stared at the text.

_Of course,_ he typed out.

His head snapped up at the soft knock at his door.

“Ah, _literally_ now.” Magnus took a deep breath and unlocked the door, opening it to find something he could go the rest of his life without seeing again—a decidedly miserable Alec. “How long have you been standing out here?”

“Not long. Tonight was….” Alec pocketed his cell, grimacing. “Shit. Tonight was _shit_. I didn’t want to be alone and Jace…. He doesn’t want to talk to me. Izzy is with Simon and Clary. And Max…I can’t go there tonight. So I thought…. Then I kept on getting those bubbles popping up like you were typing something out to me and I finally got your text, and I just—”

Magnus stepped back. “Come in, Alexander.”

Alec hung his head as he pushed past Magnus. His hair was still wet. His t-shirt was worn, but not nearly as pocked with holes as his jeans. He dropped his duffel bag to the floor and stretched his arms above his head, joints popping.

Magnus had an overwhelming urge to hug him.

He closed his door. “Drink?”

Alec kicked off his shoes and set them next to his bag. “Yes, but no. The game tomorrow.”

“Have you eaten?”

Alec shook his head.

“Sit down. I’ll make you something.”

Alec took a seat at the counter without a word.

Magnus flitted around the kitchen, grabbing supplies out of his refrigerator and cupboards, remaining quiet as he worked. He didn’t know what to say, but more importantly, his instincts were telling him that Alec didn’t want him to say anything.

Alec was hunched over Magnus’ counter, forearms resting on the black granite surface. Every time Magnus glanced at him, he was staring into the middle distance as if he was reconsidering every decision he’d _ever_ made—a movie cliche come to life that Magnus couldn’t find any humor in. All that was missing was the bottomless shot glass, the wise yet comically witty bartender, and the sudden appearance of a long lost love to guide the wayward hero back to his rightful destiny.

Magnus set a steaming mug in front of Alec. “Green tea with lemon and honey.” He started to turn back to his stove, then pivoted around again. “And maybe a touch of whiskey.”

The corner of Alec’s lip tipped up. Magnus considered it a victory.

“Thanks.”

Alec went quiet again and Magnus went back to work, pausing when Chairman appeared out of the bedroom and bumped up against his legs. Magnus eyed Chairman suspiciously, trying to telegraph a warning to his cat that this visitor needed to be loved on, not pounced on.

“I hope you’re not allergic to cats.”

“No. Max has this cat named Church. He hates everyone except me and Max. Just showed up on my parents doorstep years ago and Max took him in.”

“Chairman Meow can be capricious,” Magnus warned. “Even with me—and I saved him from the treacherous life of a feline vagabond. Don’t be offended if he doesn’t like you.”

“Everyone likes me.”

Magnus paused in the middle of filling a plate and glanced over his shoulder when he heard the dulcet sound of purring. Chairman was snuggled in Alec’s arms, bumping his face against Alec’s chest as Alec scratched between his ears.

Of course Chairman loved Alec—he was a Disney princess, in knife shoes instead of slippers, come to life.

“Chicken penne arrabiata,” Magnus announced. He slid the plate across to Alec, then picked a fork and napkin out of a drawer setting it in front of him. “I hear carbs are good for a recovering athlete. And for the soul. But not for the abs.”

Alec gave a dark laugh and Chairman jumped off his lap. “Believe me. My abs are the least of my worries tonight.”

Magnus frowned. He didn’t know how to make this better for Alec. According to Izzy it was impossible. “You know, if you still have time after you’re done eating, we could watch something mind-numbing with lots of gratuitous explosions.”

Alec took a bite, chewed it thoughtfully. “With hot guys?”

“If you wish.”

The set of Alec’s shoulders eased and the upturn of his lips was almost a real smile. Almost.

“I’ve got time.”

 

****

 

Alec couldn’t help but notice this was another completely different look for Magnus.

There were streaks of blue in his hair, and his eyes were circled with a similar shade that made the gold-green of them shine. He wore broad silver bands on each of his fingers, his wrists and neck free of anything else. His feet were bare, tucked under his jeans, and he lounged against the arm of the black velvet couch Alec had seen the first time he and Magnus had Facetimed. Unlike then, though—unfortunately—Magnus was wearing a shirt. A simple gray cotton tee with the NYBA logo on the front.

Alec took a sip of the fresh cup of tea Magnus had given him when he’d finished eating. “What did you end up wearing to the game?”

Magnus stopped scrolling through the movie guide on the TV and looked at Alec. “This.”

Alec pursed his lips. “You didn’t.”

“Pray tell. What is wrong with this?”

Nothing was _wrong_ with what Magnus was wearing—it was perfectly normal. Which made it _very wrong_. “It’s nothing like I pictured you wearing. You probably blended in with everyone else there tonight.”

“That was the point,” Magnus said dryly.

Alec set his mug on the coffee table. “I like it when you stand out.”

Magnus side-eyed him with a grin and went back to scrolling. “Fast and Furious?”

“Which one?”

“Does it really matter, Alexander?”

Alec shook his head. He patted his chest and Chairman jumped up, rolling into a ball on his stomach.

“Do you want to talk about tonight?” Magnus offered.

“No.”

Magnus nodded and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it out so it covered both his feet and Alec’s.

Alec sighed. “It’s just…. On the ice it’s like everything slows down. I know what to expect and what patterns to look out for. I have my area and I control it. I protect it. Off the ice…. I can’t get a handle on the rest of the world. It’s too out of sync and unexpected….” Alec stroked a hand down Chairman’s back. He’d been lost during the game and right now he felt so steady. “I couldn’t keep my focus where it needed to be tonight.”

Magnus laid the remote on the table and shifted so he was facing Alec. “This wasn’t a game you meant to lose.”

“It was still a loss—one I’m responsible for.” Alec blew out a long breath and Chairman moved with him, protesting with a tepid mewl. Alec rubbed behind his ear, lulling the tiny cat into sleep again. “Did you know I signed with the Angels when they were still a losing team? Jace and I both. He told me they were going to be the next big franchise and I followed him there.”

“How long have you and Jace played together?”

“Since he was ten.”

Alec attempted to catch the handle of his mug with his fingertips so he didn’t disturb Chairman. When Magnus realized what Alec was doing he picked up the cup and handed it to Alec, then tucked his feet under the blanket again, brushing up against Alec’s leg.

Alec smiled. “Jace is actually how I knew I was gay.”

“Ah, the first life defining crush. Was there ever anything…there?”

“I hoped for it for a long time, but no way. Jace is so het he’d deny it if his dick hung any way but down the middle.”

Magnus waved a finger at him, his eyes bright. “That, Alexander, is the most crude thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Jace brings it out in me.” Alec smirked over the rim of his cup. “And you haven’t heard me on the ice.”

“He knows you’re gay?”

“We came to punches when he confronted me about it….” Alec set down his mug again and continued to pet Chairman, trying to ignore the muted sensation in the palm of his left hand. “It was rocky there for awhile. But we moved on. Despite him yelling that my best wasn’t good enough tonight, he’s a good friend.”

Magnus propped his elbow on the back of the couch and leaned his cheek on his hand. “I wish I had been able to hold off that meeting with Morgenstern.”

“There’s no time that would’ve been right for that bullshit. I’m glad we got it over with.”

A silence fell between them as Alec watched Magnus flip one of his silver rings between his fingers. A hypnotic movement of graceful fingers that reminded Alec of them dancing in LA. Alec felt a blush crawling up his cheeks at the vividness of the memory, but couldn’t stop it. Magnus simply gave him a small smile as if he knew exactly what Alec was thinking—and highly approved.

Alec’s belly was full, his veins warmed by the whiskey, a brainless action movie on the screen, and Magnus at his side. He was wrecked but he was _content._ He didn’t know how to maneuver any of this _thing_ that was happening between Magnus and him. He couldn’t begin to anticipate what came next. It scared the shit out of him, but he didn’t want it to be any other way.

“Is it inappropriate for me to say I am desperately jealous of my cat right now?”

Alec tried to stifle his chuckle so his stomach wouldn’t move. “Don’t make me laugh. You’ll wake Chairman up.”

“I don’t believe I’d fit quite as compactly on your awe-inspiring abs, but I’m willing to try if you are.”

Alec kicked out at Magnus to make him stop then winced at the pain that shot up his thigh and down through his toes.

Magnus’ brow stitched together with worry. “Is this the knee issue Isabelle and Max told me about tonight?”

“It’s nothing. I usually ice it after a game then have our trainer loosen up the muscles, but I couldn’t tonight. I had to get out of there as soon as I could.”

Magnus patted his lap. “Stretch out, my wildebeest. Let me.”

Alec couldn’t hold back the splotches of red that he knew were raising on his cheeks. At least his beard was thick enough now to hide some of it.

But Magnus didn’t miss anything.

“It’s your _knee_ , Alexander. I’ve been around a bit, and a knee kink would be a new one even for me.”

Alec held onto Chairman as he chuckled. “This is where Max would say ‘don’t kink shame me.’”

“Your brother is a breathing ironic t-shirt slogan,” Magnus quipped. “Do you want me to?”

There was nothing—absolutely _nothing_ —he wanted more.

His heart thudded as he shrugged. “Sure. Yeah. Why not.”

Magnus scooted over and Alec draped his leg across Magnus’ lap. Magnus didn’t hesitate to dig his fingers in, returning his gaze to the TV even though neither of them had watched any of the movie so far.

With Magnus’ hands finally on him, Alec could push everything else away. He let his head fall against the arm of the couch and closed his eyes.

Every touch of Magnus’ magical hands through the damning holes in Alec’s jeans was soothing and yet erotic. Powerful yet sensual. Magnus was safety and the mad urge to risk _everything_.

Magnus looked soft tonight. Was touching Alec with care. But Alec had seen Magnus’ features harden in anger. Knew what those hands looked like when used to emphasize a brutally delivered point.

Everything with Magnus was like two sides of a coin. Polar opposites that could coexist…. As long as they faced away from each other.

But Alec couldn’t turn away from him.

Magnus’ hands didn’t stray from a respectable radius around Alec’s knee, then Alec shifted his position and grazed the distinct bulge between Magnus’ legs.

Alec startled and Chairman hissed and jumped off his belly.

“I told you—Chairman is capricious,” Magnus mumbled. His voice was…rough.

Alec draped his forearm over his eyes, breathing through his racing heartbeat.

“Is this helping, Alexander?”

Alec could only nod.

He sank into the cushions and Magnus’ hands moved with him, sliding above his knee. Fingers digging into his thigh, working him over, making him pliant and needy and aching for more.

Magnus wasn’t asking for anything, he was _giving_. And Alec was selfish—so fucking selfish—because he wanted _more_.

Alec scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to ignore the rush of blood thrumming through his head…and other parts of his body.

Coaxing Magnus into touching him wasn’t why he’d come here tonight. He’d needed reassurance. Known that even though Magnus was part of the problem he was also the solution. Being with Magnus made him _happy_ and Magnus seemed just as content when he was with Alec. There couldn’t be anything more between them, but….

_Shit._

Maybe pushing at both of their boundary lines had been _exactly_ why Alec had shown up here tonight.

But he couldn’t.

He _couldn’t_.

“All of that gear has to be murder on your back,” Magnus said quietly. “Turn around. I’ll do your shoulders too.”

Alec couldn’t find his voice. He dropped his feet to the floor and turned for Magnus.

Alec scooted back, fitting himself into the curve of Magnus’ body as Magnus went to his knees on the couch. Magnus’ fingers dug into the tightness below his neck. Palms skating over his shoulders and down his biceps. Magnus was hovering over him. Grounding him. Shielding him.

And driving Alec insane.

It would only take one swift movement for Alec to straddle Magnus. Press Magnus into the couch and fuck against him. To crash their lips together and breathe him in….

Alec licked his lips. He was desperate to know what Magnus tasted like.

But he couldn’t.

“I should go.”

Magnus was quiet for a moment, then, “I should want you to go.”

Alec closed his eyes, sucked in a breath.

He couldn’t drag Magnus further into the lie that was his life.

Magnus didn’t deserve to live behind closed doors or to dress so that he blended in.

Magnus was out. He _stood_ out.

He was everything Alec wished he could be.

Magnus stilled his hand at the curve of Alec’s neck, thumb resting between Alec’s shoulder blades.

“Me staying here….” Alec inhaled a steadying breath, feeling Magnus move with him. “It wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

“I’ve never been good at saying no to things that were bad for me, Alexander.”

He could feel Magnus’ warm breath on his neck. It sent shivers down his spine.

“Then I’ll do it for us.” Alec stood and Magnus’ hands fell away. Alec leaned down, placing his palms on Magnus’ neck, thumbs tracing the line of this jaw. He couldn’t stop himself. He had to know what Magnus’ skin felt like against his lips.

He placed one soft kiss on each of Magnus’ cheeks—inhaling deeply, memorizing. “Goodnight, Magnus.”

Magnus grasped onto him, holding him in place—cheek pressed against cheek. He sighed and untangled his fingers, releasing Alec. “Goodnight, Alexander.”

And Alec walked away before he couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm ridiculously behind on responding to messages but please know i read every single one of them and am SO GRATEFUL for you. all of my love always.
> 
> i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic if you want to scream at me there ;) ♡ xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus takes one for the team, and alec finds ways to circumvent his superstitions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 47 of the shadowhunters hiatus. when will this torture end???????????
> 
> so all of you are intimately aware by now of my issues with staying within my target word counts. this chapter just blew all previous out of the water. it stands at barely under 19k words. i don't think it could've happened any other way though. so yeah, here is the next monstrosity in this fic that has officially raged out of control.
> 
> a few hockey terms to help out with this chapter:
> 
> snowing - when a player cuts their skates into the ice in such a way that a spray of ice comes off the rink. this move can be penalized when a players snows the goalie  
> best of seven - one round in the playoffs is seven games. to win the round, one team must win four games, ie "best of seven"  
> empty net - when the goalie is pulled off the ice so that another player can be added to active play. used in situations where time is running down and the team needs to score  
> power play - when one team has a player (or players) penalized and they go into the penalty box, leaving the other team with more men on the ice. the power play runs until the penalty is over or the team on the power play scores
> 
> couple of reminder notes:  
> rounds in playoffs - there are three rounds of playoffs before the championship series. the angels are in the first round now  
> headers for scenes - i added headers to the game day scenes to help all of you keep track of how the series stands. hope this helps!
> 
> i've also added tessa as a character in this chapter. this fic is still shadowhunters universe so i've had to take some liberties with her character since she may not ever officially appear in the show. i hope you're okay with what i've done with her :))))

Alec stepped onto the sidewalk outside Magnus’ apartment and flipped his hood up. He was across the river from his place—way too far to walk at this time of night—but he needed the air.

He had no idea what he was doing.

Walking away from Magnus had been nearly impossible. He’d done it because he’d thought it was right, so why did it feel so _wrong_? He’d never thought twice about emotionally disconnecting in order to maintain his secret because hockey _always_ came first. But he’d never been this…open around anyone he was attracted to. He had to face this new reality—whatever it was he was feeling for Magnus had moved beyond the simplicity of attraction. He’d never wanted anyone like he wanted Magnus.

He’d walked away because he didn’t just want Magnus for sex.

Sex was easy. Wanting more from Magnus was difficult and messy and confusing and _terrifying_.

 _More_ just wasn’t possible right now.

He scowled and pulled his cell out of his pocket to request an Uber, unlocking his screen to find ten missed calls and six unread texts—all from Jace.

“Shit.”

Alec skipped reading the texts and hit the button to call Jace.

There was the thumping of heavy bass in the background when Jace picked up. “Ignoring me?”

“I was busy.”

“Right. Come have a drink with me.”

Alec kept walking. “Not in the mood to be yelled at, Wayland.”

“No yelling, Alec. Just…come out with me.”

Jace had that tone. The one where it was obvious he was speaking through his teeth, holding back whatever it is he really wanted to say. If Jace didn’t get a chance to speak his piece then he’d continue lashing out at Alec in passive-aggressive ways until he made both of them miserable. “Where are you?”

“Pandemonium.”

Alec stopped in his tracks. He was only blocks away from there. “It’s the night before a game and you’re at a club?”

“I know what I’m doing. Just get over here. I won’t keep you out late.”

“Fine.”

Alec pulled his duffel farther up his shoulder and made his way toward Pandemonium. He left his bag at coat check and was escorted directly to the VIP section where Jace drew him into a one-armed hug, patting his back.

“You want a drink?”

“Just water.” Alec sat down on the couch, surveying the table. There were two glass bottles—one water and one fifth of vodka. Only the water appeared to have any dent in its contents, but Alec had to comment anyway. “Please tell me you’re not drinking.”

Jace gave a carefree smile and sat down next to him.

“Whatever.” Alec leaned forward and poured himself water, then sank into the cushions and dropped his head back, sighing.

The music was like individual knifepoints pounding into his skull, Jace was conspicuously silent, and he could feel Jace’s eyes on him. Jace had said insinuated he wanted to talk. Alec had come here knowing Jace didn’t just want Alec to have a drink with him. Yet the last thing Alec wanted to do was pack his head with more complexities that he didn’t know how to piece apart.

Alec peeked at him. “I give. Just say whatever it is you need to say.”

“You gotta tell me what’s going on with you, Alec. I know the money thing’s been weighing on you, but that’s gotten better. And that douchebag financial advisor didn’t help anything yesterday. But come on. You can’t tell me it’s only that. I know you better.”

Alec considered lying, but knew Jace would eventually get it out of him anyway. “There’s someone I’m interested in and it’s— Well, it’s complicated.”

“So fuck him and get it out of your system.”

Of course that would be Jace’s solution. “It’s not like that.” Alec ran his fingers over the condensation gathering on the side of his glass. “I think I might want more from him.”

Jace barked out a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“You can’t take on any kind of a relationship now,” Jace insisted. “There’s nothing more important than hockey. _Nothing_. I think you’ve forgotten that.”

Alec ground his teeth together and sat up. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You let off-ice distractions get to you.” Jace pointed a finger at Alec that Alec had the mad urge to rip off. “How your personal life is going directly correlates to how focused you are on the ice.”

“My personal life is fine,” Alec said coolly.

“Is it? Because you are playing like shit!”

Alec tipped his chin up, surveying the dance floor instead of looking at Jace. “No yelling at me, huh?”

“Look. I know this mystery crush is your agent. You know it’s your agent. So let’s stop dancing around who we’re talking about.”

The arena gym…. He’d forgotten about how Jace had seemed to catch on to something then.

“His name is Magnus, Jace.”

“That—” Jace pulled his leg up on the couch and turned to face Alec full on. “ _That_ is a problem. How many guys have you fucked and known their names?”

“What’s your point?”

“My point, Alec—” Jace took a deep breath and laid his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “My point is that the bouncer over there is paid to let anyone we want up here, then look the other way. You don’t need a relationship. You need to get laid, brother.”

 

****

 

“Important messages on the top,” Clary said to Magnus as they stood next to her desk. “Papers to sign in the blue folder. Updates to your schedule should already be synced to your phone. And I ran through Slack and printed off the most relevant threads—which completely defeats the purpose of Slack, but there you go.”

Magnus filtered through the stack, assessing his priorities for the day. It may have been Sunday, but that wasn’t a day of rest when you were an agent. “How bad is my email inbox?”

“Clear. Has been for days. You’re welcome.”

Magnus looked up at her, smiling. “You are my queen.”

“Anything else I can do for you before your first appointment?”

He’d been at the office for hours—unable to sleep, twitchy—but he hadn’t checked his schedule because he knew Clary was coming in. “And who may that be?”

“Jace Wayland.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Jace Wayland of the Angels. He called yesterday to make an appointment with you.”

Magnus held back a smirk, surveying Clary’s outfit. She looked as charming and approachable as always. Jace was in a for a severe Sunday morning wake up call if he thought wooing Clary would be easy. “He works fast.”

“He insisted on today.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Magnus said wryly. “Will you join me in my office, please?”

Clary followed him, closing the door behind her. “Magnus, I want to say thank you for the raise too.”

“You’re welcome, Clary.”

“You didn’t just do it because we’re friends outside of here, right?”

“You deserve every penny of it and more,” he reassured her. “When I can get more for you I will.”

“I won’t say no to that.”

“Now.” Magnus set the stack of papers on his desk and went to the antique buffet situated against the wall of his office. “I need you to peel off your overly-competent assistant facade and shimmy into the friend zone.” He held up a cup. “And also, drink with me.”

“Is this a test?”

“If it was, biscuit, then you wouldn’t be asking me because you wouldn’t know it was a test.”

“It’s nine am.”

“It’s happy hour somewhere.” He held out a cup that she didn’t take. “As much it pains me, this is just coffee.”

She accepted the cup, cradling it in both her hands as she took a seat. “Rough day already?”

Magnus sat against the edge of his desk in front of her and stretched his legs out. “A torturous evening followed by a lovely non-dinner, then an exceedingly frustrating night capped off by a very unfulfilling morning”—he paused for effect—“when I discovered I had indeed woken up alone.”

Clary studied him and Magnus waited her out.

“You were at the game last night,” she finally said.

“I was.”

“And you didn’t go out with Izzy, Simon, and me after.”

Magnus shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“Which means you either skipped out on us for a date or someone was over at your place last night.”

“The latter.”

“And you’re being super evasive, so I’m guessing either an ex I wouldn’t approve of or someone new I won’t approve of.”

People dismissed Clary way too quickly based on how innocent she appeared to be. Magnus knew better. “The latter again.”

“You did not hook up with Elias,” Clary groaned. “I told you that man is so much trouble he practically has horns.”

“And crow’s feet.” Magnus shook his head. “Not Elias. My morning would’ve been just fine if I’d woken up without him next to me.”

“I have no idea then. None.”

He’d hoped this would’ve been a name Clary would’ve said first so he didn’t have to. “Alexander.”

She furrowed her brow. “Who? I don’t think you’ve told me about him….”

“Alec, Clary. Alec Lightwood.”

Clary paled, an impressive feat for the fair-skinned beauty. “I’m going to need a real drink.”

Magnus sighed. “I had no interest in him, Clary. You have to understand that. But something…shifted between us in LA. Then he came to my apartment last night after the game. He was so wounded and I wanted to make him feel better—”

“Tell me you didn’t take advantage of Alec after that loss,” Clary cut in.

He deserved that response. Clary knew just how fast Magnus’ bedroom door crashed open. But Alec…. Alec was different.

“His vulnerability made me want to protect him more,” Magnus asserted. “I had convinced myself I could be solely his agent, but…. There was something he said to me when we were talking about the meeting with Morgenstern— ‘I’m glad we got it over with.’ _We_. That one word…. It sounded right and felt right. It wasn’t as prosaic as _we watched a movie_ or _we talked_ —both of which we did last night. It was as if there was an _us_ —a unit that consisted of just he and I. I haven’t been in anything serious since Camille, but this— _Alec_ ….” Magnus swallowed down the emotion creeping into his voice. “Clary, he told me that he likes it when I stand out.”

“Magnus…. _He’s_ not out.”

He was well aware of that fact, but what he hadn’t realized until last night was, “He’s a painfully honest man caught in a situation that doesn’t allow him to honest.”

Clary’s face fell. “You like him.”

Magnus laughed darkly at that. “You told me I would. And last night made it clear that he is, at the very least, physically interested in me….”

It was more than that. Magnus was sure of that after last night. He was well acquainted with one-off encounters that were based completely on a physical need. The way Alec had held onto him and kissed his cheeks…. The pained roughness in his voice when he’d said goodnight….

Alec wanted more from him too, but he was scared.

“You haven’t answered me directly, and I don’t think you would go there,” Clary said. “But please tell me you didn’t have sex with him.”

He shook his head, then answered out loud. “No.”

_I’ve never been good at saying no to things that were bad for me._

Magnus cringed at the memory of how flippant his reply to Alec had sounded. As if Alec was what was bad for him.

It pained him that Alec hadn’t disagreed.

He regretted that he hadn’t had the chance to clarify what he’d meant.

Magnus pushed away from the desk and began to pace. “He stopped us from anything happening. To be quite blunt, I was much too ready to ignore every sound reason I have and risk it all in that moment.” Not just sex, _everything_. “It was good that he stopped us.”

Clary sighed. “That’s where the unfulfilling morning comes in.”

“I believe I said _very_ unfulfilling.”

“Alec doesn’t need a one night stand,” Clary pushed. “He needs someone who can give him time. Someone who will have to be very patient and wait for him to be ready to come out. And you? You were there with Camille, Magnus. You can’t— I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”

“Well, I’m representing him for the next two years.” He couldn’t filter the dejectedness out of his voice. “So we have nothing but time.”

“I heard.” Clary set her cup down and shifted in her chair to face Magnus as he paced along the wall. “But even if you could deal with waiting for him to be out, you can’t date a client. It would ruin your professional reputation.”

Intellectually, he knew that. Emotionally, he wasn’t sure anymore if that mattered. What it would take for Alec and him to give _them_ a try was all he’d been thinking about since Alec had walked out of his door last night.

His career could be destroyed for any number of reasons at any given moment—the entertainment industry was fickle. And Alec could come out today, tomorrow, next year…. The point was Alec _wanted_ to. Alec didn’t plan on living his life in the closet and maybe that could be enough for Magnus to take the risk now and worry about a potential hit to his career later. He wasn’t afraid of starting over—he’d been there more times than he could count and had always survived. He wasn’t averse to biding his time for something that could be good either. And the more time he spent with Alec the more he believed they could be _very good_.

He just had to find a path that would protect Alec. Because, like Clary, he didn’t want to see Alec hurt either.

Clary couldn’t know any of this yet, though.

“My reputation is impeccable,” Magnus dismissed.

Clary frowned. “I know that face, Magnus. Don’t try to wiggle your way around this like every other rule you don’t like. You pursuing Alec would be a disaster.”

“But?” he tried to joke.

“No _but_ , Magnus. You and Alec would be a disaster.”

 

****

 

Alec dropped his forehead against the shower tile and let the water beat down over his shoulders.

Going out with Jace last night had been a bad idea. One Alec had known would be the wrong choice and still went through with it. His life was crammed with really poor decisions these days.

And Jace….

Jace was the devil on his shoulder, whispering the worst of ideas into his ear. Ideas that were way too tempting.

_You need to get laid, brother._

There was no denying it had been too long. His skin felt stretched thin. He was in desperate need of someone else’s hands on him. Someone to draw the stress out of his bones…. But Pandemonium hadn’t been the place, and last night hadn’t been the time.

Now he was even more wrecked than he’d been leaving Magnus’ place.

This was now two nights in a row where he’d barely slept. Two nights that fell right before important games.

And two mornings when he’d woken up hard…thinking about Magnus.

Yesterday when he’d been in the shower he’d avoided every thought of bronze skin and fluid movement that flashed through his mind. Ignoring those damning visuals in favor of getting off as efficiently as he could.

This morning he…couldn’t.

This morning he gave in.

He took himself in hand and closed his eyes, starting with a slow stroke as he remembered Magnus’ lips on his collarbone at the club, heated brushes of skin that had left invisible, indelible marks in their wake.

He remembered Magnus’ lips nearly on his neck last night, so close that Alec could picture turning his head and crushing his mouth against Magnus’. Teasing his lips open with his tongue. Breathing him in and being met with the same force of need that was consuming him, both of them losing all control.

Straddling Magnus hips and rutting against him. Undoing zippers and stroking Magnus’ length just like he was doing to himself right now. His own calloused fingers circled his cock—fingers that he wanted to be the smoothness of Magnus’. The coolness of metal rings and the warmth of agile hands gripping him tight and driving him to the edge.

Him undressing Magnus piece by piece until he was naked beneath him. Skin to skin, fingers aching to touch everywhere. Needing to taste Magnus and dropping to his knees to take Magnus’ cock in his mouth. Magnus yanking on his hair and thrusting into his throat until Alec couldn’t breathe….

Alec groaned as he came, sliding his hand slowly over his cock until he was shivering despite the steaming water beating down his back.

He flipped the temperature up and placed his forearm on the tile, slumping, resting his forehead on his arm as he caught his breath.

“Shit,” he said out loud. “That was too good.”

The real thing would be even better—Magnus’ hands were too graceful and strong not to make a complete mess of him—but it wasn’t like he’d ever know.

Alec stepped out of the shower and spotted the flashing light on his cell on the counter, a heavy dose of shame flooding his cheeks when he saw Magnus’ name on his screen.

Alec grimaced at himself in the foggy mirror. “You just jerked off to Magnus while he was texting you. Great. This is just…great.”

Alec wrapped a towel around his waist and ran a hand over his beard as he opened the text.

_Did you have a chance to speak to Max?_

Business.

Exactly what their first communication since last night should’ve been, but Alec was still…disappointed.

_Having breakfast with him. I’ll text when I’m done_

Magnus’ reply came almost immediately. _Let me know if you need help_

Alec began to respond when the reply bubbles popped up. He waited.

_Offer for tea still open. If you have time_

_That_ text wasn’t business. Not really.

It was an opening of sorts. Maybe a way for to Magnus to show that things didn’t have to change between them? Maybe a come on? Fuck. Alec had no idea.

_Practice after I meet Max. Thx tho_

Alec paused. Continued to type. _Coming tonight?_

_I’ll be there_

_K_

Alec swore under his breath. “Well, this isn’t awkward at all.”

 

****

 

“Mr. Bane?” Clary’s voice came over the intercom, crisp and professional. “Mr. Wayland is here to see you.”

Magnus stood and buttoned his jacket, opening his door to find Clary sitting at her desk—back ramrod straight—and Jace with his arms crossed, glancing woundedly at her like a puppy who’d been sent to his crate by his master.

Magnus held back a smile, and offered his hand. “Mr. Wayland, it’s good to see you again so soon.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to Clary before he shook Magnus’ hand. “Thanks, you too.”

“Alec left me with the impression that you didn’t leave the arena if you didn’t have to.”

“Alec is taking care of…stuff too.”

Magnus took in Jace’s response. Jace hadn’t denied Alec’s statement and Jace was protective of Alec—maintaining Alec’s privacy. Jace and Alec were likely much more a bonded pair than Alec had let on. “Is he now? That all sounds very official. Please come in.”

Magnus led Jace into the office, gesturing at his own jaw as they walked. “So you don’t share Alec’s superstition about magical chin follicles?”

“I don’t do the playoff beard thing. Can’t really grow one—” Jace’s face scrunched up in frustration as he dropped into the seat across from Magnus’ desk. “Anyway… I’d like your advice actually.”

Instead of going behind his desk, Magnus took the seat next to Jace. “About Clary?”

“What? No.”

“I was under the impression you were here for Clary.”

“Okay, yeah—she’s hot, but I don’t think she likes me?” If Jace’s inflection and expression were any indication, rejection wasn’t a natural state for the Angels’ supernova. To Magnus’ fascination, within one breath Jace’s demeanor had changed, though. He licked his lips, tipped his head to the side and the cockiness rolled off him in waves. “Whatever. I’m here on business. Hoping you can give me some insider info on working with IE. My agent is useful as a flaccid dick. I don’t want him taking a cut of the next contract I sign, _especially_ the next one.”

“Well then. Let me apologize first for assuming you were here for other reasons.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t give you a reason to think otherwise.”

Magnus waved a hand in the air. “Granted. Let’s move on. Tell me, how restrictive is your agreement with your agency?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been as involved with any of this as I should’ve been. I can have my lawyer give you a call.”

“Okay. And how much longer do you have on your contract with the Angels?”

“Two more months.”

“Same as Alec’s.”

Jace shrugged. “We signed around the same time.”

“There are legalities we would need to work through, but I’ll be surprised if any of them are insurmountable. IE will be happy to accept you into their family.”

“Not IE.” Jace pointed at Magnus. “ _You_. I don’t want another sports agent—I want you.”

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that, please?”

“You heard me,” Jace said with all confidence. “And I know you want me too.”

Magnus restrained a smirk. “Well, Mr. Wayland. This is not a situation I thought would be presented to me this morning.”

“It’s Jace.”

“Very well,” Magnus allowed. “Have your attorney call me, Jace. We’ll go from there. I won’t keep you away from Alec and the arena any longer than necessary.”

Magnus stood and Jace followed him, placing his hand on Magnus’ arm. Magnus didn’t flinch away from the touch, but he didn’t welcome it either. Jace seemed to catch on and quickly let go.

“About Alec. He can’t know about this yet.”

Magnus didn’t divulge anything to do with his clients’—or prospective clients’—business without their permission, but Jace wouldn’t know that. “You tell me how you want to move forward. I’ll keep this quiet until we can discuss it further.”

“Good… Just— One more thing.” Jace ran his hands through his hair. “I’m here because I trust Alec and he trusts you. But I’m also here…. I’m also here because I love him. He’s the only brother I’ve ever had.”

Magnus apparently hadn’t really looked at Jace until now, because he was only just seeing the differing the colors of Jace’s eyes as they locked onto him—intent. Whatever Jace was trying to tell Magnus was important to him. “I don’t understand.”

Jace chuckled at that. “I don’t either. But that doesn’t matter. He’s a good guy. So just…. Watch out for him, okay?”

“I will,” Magnus replied without hesitation.

Jace grinned and patted him on the back.

Magnus let him this time.

 

****

 

Alec pulled his cap on and headed out the door of his building, catching a cab to the restaurant where he was meeting Max. The car jolted into movement and Alec caught the cabbie glancing back at him. He was used to being recognized on occasion. Hockey players weren’t well known everywhere, but the Angels were a popular team. A popular team royally fucking over the city if the sports station that was currently booming out of the radio was any indication. Alec slid his sunglasses on and tried to ignore the commentary about the clusterfuck that had been his loss last night, but the cabbie kept eyeing him the mirror.

“Going to lose tonight too?”

Alec gritted his teeth. “Don’t plan on it.”

The man clucked his tongue. “The least you can do is put in a fight.”

Alec held back a sneer.

It didn’t matter that he’d been a pro for seven years, he still wasn’t entirely comfortable dealing with the public. Fan service took a lot out of him. Fan critique even more. But he deserved the criticism. He deserved every iota of frustration painted across this guy’s face. He couldn’t go into tonight’s game broken or weak. He had to bring the fight.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

The cabbie’s face brightened. “Excellent, my friend.”

The cabbie waved off the fare when he dropped Alec at the corner of Essex and Rivington, and Alec thanked him—handing him a twenty dollar bill anyway and one of his customized business cards. “Call the number on the card and tell them I asked you to call.” He tapped the side of the car and headed inside the Essex.

The hostess led him to a table in a back corner where Max sat with his back to the rest of the tables, giving Alec the seat he always preferred—where he could watch who was around him. He touched Max’s shoulder and Max stood, wrapping him in a hug.

“Guessing this isn’t a new pre-game ritual,” Max said, still holding him tight.

“It’s not,” Alec confirmed. “Sorry, Max.”

Max squeezed him one more time then sat down. “So tell me. You’re making me nervous.”

Alec removed his sunglasses and flipped his baseball cap so it sat backwards, taking the seat across from Max. “The son of Valentine Morgenstern approached me with a million dollar check yesterday. He said it was all they’d been able to recover so far and he was giving it to me to regain my trust. Then he proceeded to threaten your search for venture capital if I didn’t accept his check and set a meeting between you and him.”

“What a fuck bag!” Max shook his head in disbelief then picked up his menu. “You doing carbs or protein? Can never remember what your diet is on game day.”

Alec gaped. He pushed Max’s menu to the table. “Are you listening to me, Max? He is well connected. His threat could be legitimate.”

“He’s threatening you, Alec—not me—and not even very well. I’ll make my own way. I don’t want his money either, and if that keeps me out of circles that associate with him, then even better.”

Alec sat back. “How do you know I didn’t take his money?”

Max barked out a laugh. “You? No way.”

“Well, I didn’t. Just to make that clear. And Magnus wants to report our meeting to the state attorney’s office. So they may try to contact you.”

“As long as the five-o don’t fuck with my finals—that’s cool.”

Alec couldn’t help but chuckle. He hadn’t expected his brother to freak out, but he was constantly surprised how genuinely sure of himself Max was. He picked up his own menu, even though he ordered the same thing every time he came here. “Protein, carbs, and a lot of calories. That’s my game day diet.”

Max nodded. “So what else is going on?”

“Besides extortion and tanking in the net last night?” Alec shrugged. “Not much.”

“I’m totally going to be _that guy_ because it’s who I am. You look like shit, Alec. And not just post-game I’m-so-pissed-at-myself shit.”

“Long day in general yesterday,” Alec hedged. “Long _season_. Which is great, don’t get me wrong, it’s just…. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for life outside hockey.”

“Thought hockey was your life.”

Max waved at someone, but Alec ignored him in favor of studying the menu. Max seemed to know someone wherever they went.

“It is,” Alec answered, reading through the list of brunch options to see if there was anything besides the usual that caught his eye. “It’s just…. Maybe I want more? I don’t know. I’ve never really done the dating thing. Hook ups only when…needed. Jace says I need to get laid—” Alec looked up to find their waitress standing next to the table. His cheeks went molten.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s interested in ordering that,” Max quipped to the woman.

Alec cleared his throat and tried to dredge up even a drop of dignity. “I’ll have the Aristocrat with fresh fruit on the side. Skip the drinks.”

“I’ll have the Deep South and skip the drinks.” Max handed over the menus, giving the waitress a dazzling smile. “The Lightwood brothers don’t need alcohol. We’re naturally intoxicating.”

Alec stared at his brother in disbelief. “Do you have an off switch?”

The waitress simply rolled her eyes as she walked away.

“I’m going to have to tip her one hundred percent,” Alec said.

“Worth it. Anyway, you were saying?”

Alec looked around this time to make sure no one was listening. “Jace says my personal life is messing with how I play and he thinks I need to laid.”

“So you come to your brother for help? I think we need to work on some boundary setting.”

“Give it a rest, Max. I need someone to talk to about this. Can you cut out the sarcasm for five minutes?”

“Dude. Why so surly? Maybe you need to get laid.”

Alec pushed back and started to get up from his chair.

Max yanked on his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sit back down. I’ll be serious.”

Alec scowled and sat back down.

Max picked up his water and took a drink. “Do you want to get laid?”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or fucking with me more.”

“It’s a serious question, Alec. Do you want to get laid?”

“Well, yeah.”

Max set his glass down and leaned forward. “You need to call Magnus.”

His skin was going to melt off his bones. He was sure of it. “What? Why?”

“To get laid? Because the two of you are boning?”

Alec sputtered. “Me and Magnus— We— We’re _not_.”

“Oh shit.” Max sat back and nodded. “Then…. Right. Okay. You still need to call Magnus.”

“Why?” Alec protested.

“To get laid! Why is this so difficult for you?”

“What?” Alec asked, incredulous.

“What?” Max retorted, confused.

Alec leaned forward, whispering. “How the hell did you know there was…something…there? You’ve never even seen Magnus and me together.”

“To be honest, I was just fucking with you. I didn’t actually think you and Magnus were doing it. I thought it was a one-sided fantasy on Magnus’ part, but that color”—he circled a pointed finger around Alec’s face—“is not one-sided.”

“I don’t like him,” Alec denied. Badly.

“ _Like_ him? Yeah, well now I know you totally do.”

Alec set his elbows on the table and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Nothing has happened between the two of us.”

“But you want it to.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Max raised one eyebrow and Alec caved. “Yes, okay? _Yes_. But it’s not going to. I was at his place last night and nothing happened and it’s _confusing_ me and… _killing_ me.”

“I don’t get it. Is he not into you?”

Alec shook his head. “No, he is. But I can’t be with him, Max. Not really.”

“Why? Because there’s”—Max made air quotes with his fingers—“really big reasons, and”—more air quotes—“super challenging obstacles, and it’s”—still more air quotes—“a bad idea that could turn your world upside down? Did I get that right?”

“Yes?”

Max scoffed. Again. “I know pulling punches is your thing, but you’ll never change anything if you don’t switch up the batting order.”

“You’re mixing your sports metaphors,” Alec pointed out.

“How’s this? Learn to take a risk, Alec.”

It was finally Alec’s turn to scoff.

“No, really. You’re not happy with how your life is going, so change it. And to do that you’re going to have to _not_ play by the rules. I know that’s not _you_ and it goes against everything you are, but start somewhere—anywhere. There’s risk in everything in life, but the biggest risks have the biggest payoff in the end. Honestly? You need to watch some rom coms, Alec. This is pretty much a conversation straight out of all of them.”

“No way.”

“You’d learn a lot,” Max insisted.

“Not happening.”

Max reached his hand across the table and laid it on Alec’s. “I’ll be here for you when it’s time, big brother.”

Alec grinned, he couldn’t help it. “Shut the fuck up, Max.”

“Can I just say one more thing?”

Alec huffed. “Do you have to?”

“Yeah, I do. Think about the other guys you’ve hooked up with over the years. Were any of them like Magnus? I like the guy—not gonna lie about that. But he’s _so_ out. Maybe you’re attracted to him because of that.”

Alec considered that. “You think I’m attracted to what he represents more than him?”

“You gotta answer that for yourself.”

Alec scowled. When had his life gotten so confusing? “Maybe.”

 

****

 

_Night of Game Two_

_(Series tally - Devils lead one game to none)_

 

“You know,” Max called out as he approached Magnus, “it’s a pretty well established superstition that if you sit on the Raziel statue that you’re doomed to an eternity of forced abstinence.”

Magnus practically flew off the base of the statue in front of the Angels’ arena at Max’s words. Max had texted him to meet up here and—despite the cleanliness of the majestic statue’s base and the lack of seating elsewhere—he’d been surprised to find no one else sitting there. “A mascot that enforces permanent chastity sounds more hellish than heavenly.”

Max chuckled. “I’m fucking with you. Good to know where your priorities are though.”

Magnus glared at Max and pulled at the cuffs of his shirt. “Where’s Isabelle?”

“It’s just you and me tonight. Izzy decided to switch up tradition and stay with her hubs and Clary in the zamboni room. Honestly, I think she just wanted to bang Simon on the zamboni while Clary watches.”

The mental images were too much. “ _That_ is information I never needed to know.”

Max cackled. “Magnus! I’m messing with you on that too. Wow. Your bullshit radar is off today. You lose some key brain cells overnight or something?”

Magnus sniffed. “I’m fine.”

“Sure ya are,” Max drawled, looking completely unconvinced.

“I’m simply focused on not trampling on any of Alec’s delicate web of superstition.”

“Uh-huh. So that explains the change to a shiny shirt and layers of silver jewelry today?”

He may have chosen this shirt because of how boldly it would set him apart from everyone else in the arena tonight. “This shirt is a Versace.”

“Oh my god, you and my brother are total opposites.” Max looped his arm into Magnus’ and guided him toward the queue for security. “You look great, by the way. Nice to see the real Magnus showing up to this game.”

Magnus smiled. “So where did the self-pilfering Robin Hood place us tonight?”

“We’re actually in one of the players’ suites. Alec only gave away two of his three tickets, Jace had an extra one, and Izzy was set on staying with Simon, so it’s you and me.”

_You and me._

_We._

Magnus was entwined with the Lightwood family in ways he didn’t want to unravel. Much too attached to all of them, yet with a gap between his life and theirs that he hoped to find a way to bridge. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, young Lightwood. Let’s get a picture to send to Alexander.”

 

****

 

Alec took to the ice with a mix of applause and boos that were audible despite the blaring music. It was a first for him. He’d been booed during a game, but never before.

He blew out a long breath and headed for the crease.

He knew from his pre-game texts that Magnus was up in the suite—with Max—looking gorgeous, standing out just as Alec had told him he liked. It was comforting and disconcerting all at the same time.

In that same suite was the cab driver who he’d given tickets to earlier today. A man that had reminded Alec he needed to not just show up—he needed to fight.

If he was ever going to change his life then it was going to be a fight. An internal battle to overcome his own fear, and an external one to stand tall against all of the people who would view him differently because he was gay. He had to learn to shake off people’s disapproval of him in life just like he did on the ice.

He wasn’t ready for all of this yet, but if he was ever going to be then he needed to bring everything he had to the things that mattered.

He was going to bring the fight tonight.

Because he needed to start living for _all_ the pieces of himself that made him proud.

 

****

 

Magnus eased back in his seat and took a drink of his lemon drop martini. Lemon wasn’t usually a favorite flavor of his, but the balance of sour and sweet in the martini was stunning, the color of his drink matched his shirt, and it had been free—delivered to him by the suite waitstaff. Magnus could get used to this level of pampering very quickly.

“He looks solid tonight,” Max observed. “Much better than last night.”

“He does,” Magnus acknowledged.

There had been a selfish part of him that had hoped Alec would struggle tonight, because maybe that meant Alec had been affected as Magnus by last night. But Magnus had pushed that thought aside as quickly as it had flown through his mind. Magnus didn’t ever want to see Alec as broken as he’d been after that loss. And Alec walking away was exactly what had needed to happen—for both of their sakes.

“Speaking with you this morning had to ease his mind,” Magnus said to Max.

“That egotistical prick Morgenstern can fuck off. Did Alec tell you I’m in for however you want to handle reporting that meeting?”

“He texted me after your breakfast. But I wasn’t expecting any other answer. Everyone in your family seems very…forthright. Focused on doing what it honorable.”

“Probably because our parents aren’t.”

Magnus let that subject sit. There wasn’t anything he could contribute to a discussion on parents that wouldn’t increase the bitterness factor.

Max relaxed into his seat, bumping up against Magnus. “You know, there’s very little that eases Alec’s mind. You seem to, though.”

Magnus took a healthy gulp of his martini, piecing together what Max wasn’t saying out loud. “Alec told you what didn’t happen last night.”

“Yup.”

The sourness of lemon churned in his stomach. “I don’t believe anything to do with me is restful for Alec at this point.”

“Maybe.” Max’s lips tipped up in a ghost of a smile. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

 

****

 

Alec glanced at the scoreboard, checking the time. Thirteen minutes left in the second period. One to one.

 _Bring the fight_ , he repeated in his head as he crouched down and surveyed the ice.

He wasn’t at his best tonight, but he was much more focused than he’d been in the first game. The Devils’ were coming at them hard, trying to exploit the weaknesses they’d uncovered last night. So far the Angels were holding their own. _He_ was holding his own, despite the Devils’ center’s attempts to throw Alec off his game by sticking close to the goal.

Blackwell had gotten in three goals last night, and Alec wouldn’t allow one of his shots through tonight.

“Time, time, time, Santiago,” he called out as Raphael took possession of the puck behind his net, letting his center know he had time to set up the play before the Devils were on them again.

Santiago appeared in Alec’s peripheral vision, rushing past in a blur, then passing to the right winger. The puck bounced between the Angels offensive players and the Devils skated hard, going for force in their hits instead of any finesse in stealing the puck.

Alec watched as the angle of Jace’s shoulders changed and Alec held his breath, waiting for the shot he knew was coming. The red light lit up behind the Devils’ net and Jace skated away with his fist pumping in the air as the fans took to their feet and the arena dropped into raucous chaos.

One to two with half of the game left to play.

Alec flipped his cage up and took a swig of water while they set up for the faceoff.

Thirty more minutes to play.

The defense was trying to keep Blackwell off him and the offense was getting their shots in. It was Alec’s job now to maintain the Angels’ lead.

 _Bring the fight_ , he thought again, and settled into his crouch.

 

****

 

Max glared at the rink, then up at the bank of TVs in front of the suite. “The refs should be calling Blackwell for interference. I don’t know why they’re letting that slide.”

“Tough call to make, my friend,” the man next to Magnus said. “He’s lingering just long enough and close enough to make his presence known but not enough to be penalized.”

“It looks like that shit is already pissing Alec off.”

Magnus glanced at the TVs. He couldn’t see what they were seeing. “I don’t understand.”

The man next to him leaned in. “Players aren’t allowed to do anything that keeps the goaltender from defending the net. It’s a gray area with much fervent discussion on what is interfering and what is not.”

“Ah. Yes, I could see Alexander being a bit territorial when it comes to his space.”

The man quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know Alec Lightwood?”

Max beamed and reached across Magnus to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Max—his brother. And this is his agent Magnus.”

“Ibrahim,” the man said as he shook their hands. “I see the resemblance now. Your brother is a generous man. He was in my cab this morning and I, well, I may have been a bit stern with him. But he gave me tickets to tonight. I brought my wife.” He pointed to the woman in a Wayland jersey standing at the railing of the suite, cheering. “She’s a huge fan.”

“So what did you say to him?” Max asked.

“Not to lose again.”

Max guffawed. “Awesome. I’m sure he’s taken that to heart. He does every piece of criticism he gets.”

“Well now I feel really bad.”

“Nah, don’t sweat it. No one is harder on Alec than he is on himself.”

Ibrahim smiled and went back to chatting with Max, but Magnus was studying Alec. There was no doubt Alec was playing better tonight, but the way he was carrying himself—the way he was moving— _was_ different.

Tighter. More aggressive.

They had thirty minutes left to find out whether or not that change would lead to a win.

 

****

 

Blackwell swished by Alec again, skates cutting into the line surrounding the crease, but not snowing him or making any contact. He was skirting the edges of an interference call—had been since late in the first period. The refs had already given him one warning but Blackwell kept pressing in.

The Angels defense was working to keep the puck out of the defensive zone at all—and succeeding more often than not, giving Alec some breathing room—but Alec had no doubt that when Blackwell got a real chance to challenge Alec, he would.

Alec had to shut this down now or face the possibility of Blackwell and the other Devils fucking with his area for the rest of the series.

 _Bring the fight_ , he repeated until the sentence started to take on a whole new meaning.

Despite Jace being the captain, the other players relied more on Alec for on-ice instructions. The pin in their grenade Garroway had called him. If the Angels were going to make it to the championship then they had to find a better balance.

He and Jace had been playing together for so long that sometimes being on the ice with him felt more natural than breathing. They communicated with each other on another level than the rest of the team, and Alec needed to give the whole team space to learn to communicate with Jace the same way. He needed to command his net and allow Jace control of the rest.

_Learn to take a risk._

As soon as the horn sounded ending the second period, Alec skated up next to Jace, slowing him. “Hang back. We gotta talk.”

“What’s up?”

“The defense is spending too much time protecting me and not enough getting the puck to the forward line. I’m known for keeping my cool on the ice and the Devils are playing all of us—using that to their advantage to get as close to the net as possible and distract the defense. _I’m_ letting that happen. I know you all have my back but I’m not made of fucking glass. I need to make a statement. Let Blackwell know he’s not allowed near my goal. You know what that could mean, right?”

Jace pulled off his glove and swiped his hand over his lips. “How dirty are we talking here?”

“Nothing that will get me suspended. I hope.”

“Shit. Got it. Give the refs one more shot to get it right. They don’t, then do what you need to. I know you’re not fucking fragile, but I’ll still have your back.”

Alec pulled Jace forward and knocked his mask against Jace’s helmet. “You always do, brother.”

 

****

 

“What was that about?” Magnus asked Max, pointing at the ice.

Max stopped devouring the burrito in his hands and squinted at Magnus. “What?”

“Just before they went down the tunnel Alexander pulled Jace aside. I’ve never seen him do that before.”

“Holy shit, you’ve got it bad. You know what Alec’s usual routine is at _intermissions_?”

“I don’t— He’s—” Magnus sputtered. He straightened a lock of hair off his forehead and leveled Max with a death stare. “Aren’t there leftover rib bones you have yet to gnaw the meat off of?”

Max snorted. “I’m guessing I’m not the only one thinking about gnawing meat tonight.”

Magnus glowered. “Shut up, Max.”

 

****

 

The front of the net was a flurry of sticks, skates, elbows, and a mad dash for the puck. There was no way for Alec to keep track of exactly where it was in the crease pileup. He kept low, in a full butterfly, mitt ready and stick protecting his five hole as he tried not to be jostled out of position. He caught a flash of black and propelled his stick forward between skates, sending the puck out of the melee and both teams chasing after it.

He got to his feet and heard Jace yell at one of the refs. “They’re fucking eating dinner in his goddamn crease. You gotta fucking call that!” The refs attention never left play farther down the ice.

Alec gritted his teeth and went back into position, readying for play heading his way again. Blackwell charged forward, intent on the goal even though he didn’t have the puck, setting up in a position that blocked Alec’s view of the action.

“Screen slot, screen slot,” Alec barked out to let his defense know he couldn’t see the puck.

Alec stayed in position, deflecting a shot that came out of nowhere and Blackwell continued to encroach.

Before he could overthink it, Alec brought his elbow back and slammed his blocker into the side of Blackwell’s thigh, then a second time, shoving Blackwell away and sending him reeling in an exaggerated whip of arms and flailing legs to the ice.

Alec knew the whistle was coming before he even heard it.

 

****

 

“Oh shit,” Max swore as he surged to his feet, his hands on his head. Max looked to Magnus with disbelief then whipped his head around to the ice again, yelling, “What. The. Fuck. Alec?!”

Magnus looked to Ibrahim for an explanation.

“That’s a game misconduct,” Ibrahim explained, his eyes wide. “He’s ejected. Out for the rest of the game.”

Magnus gaped. “And now what?”

“Backup goalie.” Ibrahim said. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Jordan Kyle.” Max still looked stunned as he slumped into his seat. “Alec started sixty-two games this season. Kyle hasn’t seen much action.”

“He has less than ten minutes to play,” Magnus pointed out. “And the Angels are ahead.”

Max grumbled a ripe swear and scrubbed his hands over his face. “It only takes one second to score.”

 

****

 

“What the motherfuck was that, Lightwood?” Garroway yelled at Alec as he exited the ice.

Alec kept his jaw clamped shut and didn’t say anything as he clambered back to the locker room, Kadir following him.

Alec calmly removed his gear and sank onto the bench as Kadir flipped on the TV.

“Ice?” Kadir asked.

“Yeah.”

Alec stretched out his leg and let Kadir situate the bag over his knee.

Kadir sat down next to him, looking up at the TV as Kyle entered the rink.

Alec took a deep breath, stomach flipping as he watched the refs set up the faceoff to restart play.

 

****

 

There was a chorus of boos at the first goal Kyle let in, tying the game with six minutes left in the third.

Then the arena went silent.

With Alec off the ice, the Angels skated hard, keeping the puck in the offensive zone and taking shot after shot—each one deflected—as time ticked down.

With less than thirty seconds left in the game, Garroway pulled Kyle out of the net to gain a sixth man on the ice for the Angels. Max surged to his feet as the Angels and Devils battled for control of the puck in front of the Devils’ net. Santiago slapped a shot that ricocheted off the post, the crowd groaning in unison. Pangborn bashed his way through the line and drew the puck out again, passing to Jace, who was whirled around by a massive Devils’ defenseman barreling over him. The D-man stole the puck and surged forward, burying the puck in the empty net as the final buzzer sounded.

“What the fuck just happened?” Max said in disbelief.

Magnus stared at the scoreboard, trying to make sense of it all.

Devils - 3. Angels - 2.

The game was over.

They were down two games to none in the series.

 

****

 

Alec forced himself to meet every set of eyes as the Angels trudged into the locker room—some defiant, some exhausted, all of them defeated—until Coach Garroway walked through the door and leveled Alec with a savage glare. Alec ran a hand over his beard and looked away.

“I don’t know what the fuck happened out there tonight,” Garroway started in on them, the timbre of his voice a near growl. Regardless of the grimace on his face, Garroway was outwardly calm. The kind of calm that every player learned to fear. “We are down two games and our next two games are on the road. I expect each of you to bring your brains to work tomorrow and not just your bodies. We’ll review tape of this fuckfest starting at seven am. Until then, get the fuck out of my arena.”

Garroway stalked into his office, leaving the door open as usual—an ever-present threat.

“Lightwood fucked us again,” one of the third line defensemen gritted out just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jace was in the guy’s space immediately. “Lightwood? If Alec hadn’t made it clear that the Devils needed to stay the fuck back, then they would’ve gotten even more aggressive than they already are. Our goalies took twenty-eight shots on goal and only let two in. You want to talk about job performance, then tell me how you let that D-man slip past you and get to me? Or how one man managed to mind fuck us all? We do our jobs and the Devils don’t spend time in front of our goal. _All of us_ made mistakes out there tonight. We fucked _ourselves_ tonight.” The guy gave a clipped nod and Jace stood tall, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. He looked around the locker room, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “I don’t know how all of you feel, but I think fucking is much more fun as a team sport.”

“Amen,” Pangborn called out. “Did you see that prissy ass Blackwell flailing on the ice? He was brought to his _knees_ by our motherfucking goalie.”

The tone of the locker room shifted immediately. Alec huffed out a laugh as Jace dropped onto the bench next to him.

“Fucking is more fun as a team sport, huh?”

Jace grinned. “You should try that at least once.”

“Being worried about _one_ other person is enough for me. Thanks.”

Jace gestured at Alec’s head. “You okay up there?”

“Yeah,” he answered honestly. “I am.”

“That was fucking crazy, Alec.”

He shrugged. “I had to take the risk.”

Jace’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you? I’ve never seen you do anything like that.”

“I figured I had an eighty-twenty shot. Twenty percent chance the refs wouldn’t catch it, eighty percent chance they would, and a one hundred percent chance that I wouldn’t get Blackwell’s ass out of my face for the rest of the series if he didn’t think I was a bit deranged. I went _against_ my gut and hit him.”

“You owned that goal tonight. I meant what I said—this loss is on all of us. We should’ve been able to keep the puck away from the net when both you and Kyle were in it—and especially when Kyle _wasn’t_ in it. We’re too used to you deflecting almost everything. We rely on you too much. That is something your captain needs to make sure changes.”

Alec pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay.”

“Lightwood!” Garroway yelled. “In my office now.”

Jace slapped him on the back and Alec plodded into Garroway’s office, shutting the door behind him.

“Sit down. I’ve been notified that you won’t be receiving a one game suspension for your hit on Blackwell but you will be paying a fine plus additional penalties. Front office will be in contact with your agent to give him all the details.”

Alec blew out a sigh of relief. “Got it.”

Garroway leaned forward on his desk. “The Devils are going to be pissed you didn’t get that suspension.”

“They play any more aggressively than they already are, they’re going to spend the entire third game in the box.”

“We can hope.” Garroway ran his fingers over his mouth as he studied Alec. “I can’t believe I have to say this to you out of all the jackoffs in there—that is now two games you’ve let your emotions get the best of you.”

“It wasn’t emotional at all, Coach. It was a calculated risk.”

“A calculated risk? Well your calculations were way the fuck off. You don’t fucking touch another player, you hear me?”

“I hear you, Coach.”

“You get your shit together or I will personally yank you out of that goal by your neck.”

It wasn’t that long ago that he’d been sitting in this exact same chair with Clary crying on the phone as Alec begged her to get control of herself. He could hear Clary’s voice in his head as he repeated what she’d said that day. “My shit has been gathered, Coach.”

Garroway dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Then, “And Alec?”

Alec cracked his neck and turned around to face his Coach.

Garroway was…smiling?

“Unofficially, Blackwell deserved that hit. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

 

****

 

_You have fun with Max?_

Magnus re-read the text from Alec and looked up at Max. “He wants to know if we had fun.”

“If we had _fun_?” Max bellowed, heads turning in their direction from other tables in the bar. “Is he kidding? How can he just— And he texts _you_ back before me? Give that to me.”

Magnus passed his cell over to Max and watched him type out a reply.

Max smirked—the first real smile Magnus had seen on his lips since Alec was ejected from the game—and handed the phone back to Magnus.

The last message sent to Alec was: _Ur brother is more fun than a bag of dicks_

Magnus shook his head. “Really, Max?”

“Hang on, give it back.”

Magnus did. More out of curiosity than anything else.

Max emphatically pressed the screen with one finger. “There.”

“The poop emoji?”

“He’ll know what that means.”

Magnus set his phone on the table in disgust. “You’ve soiled my entire thread with him. Feel better now?”

“No,” Max insisted—frowning—then broke into a sly grin. “Okay, yeah.”

Magnus’ phone pinged.

_MAX. Give the phone back to Magnus_

_I have control again_ , Magnus typed. _Your (or ur) brother is a delight_

Max leaned forward. “Ask him what the hell.”

_Max wishes me to ask you what the hell_

Alec’s reply came right away. _Where are you?_

Magnus looked to Max. “Where are we again?”

“Tell him the bar.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow and complied.

Vague location sent, Magnus set his phone down again and picked up his scotch. “I still don’t understand why we had to come here. We’re in the opposite direction from Columbia and you can’t even drink—”

“Shhh,” Max interrupted, shifting so he was facing the front of the bar. “I’m trying to hold on to my anger and Alec will walk through that door right about…now.”

Magnus stared at the door expecting Alec to magically appear through some sort of portal. A beat of silence passed and Magnus peeked at Max. “Now?”

“Okay. Now.”

Magnus glanced sideways again at Max when Alec didn’t materialize.

“Oh my god,” Max groaned. “He can’t even get this right.”

“Max,” Magnus pleaded. “Alec was a wreck after last night’s game. I know your default mode is antagonistic, but go easy on—”

“Now!” Max yelled, throwing his hands in the air as Alec pushed into the bar. “What the hell, Alec?”

 

****

 

Alec waved at the bartender and shook his head when offered a drink. Magnus was studying Alec with care as he approached, as if he wasn’t sure what mental state Alec would be in after that game. Alec smiled to reassure him and Magnus ducked his head, putting just as much scrutiny on the drink in front of him as he’d just had on Alec.

It was the first time he’d seen Magnus since last night, and yeah, this _thing_ —whatever it was between them—was still there.

Alec tried to get his beating heart under control and took the seat next to Max, finally answering his brother’s question. “I was defending my goal.”

“See! That’s not you. Being this chill about being ejected? You being thrown out of a game has only happened one other time, and that time….” Max grimaced. “I thought for sure you’d lost it.”

“So you decided yelling at him will help that?” Magnus interjected.

Max whipped his head around and shushed Magnus.

“I didn’t lose it,” Alec replied. “I knew exactly what I was doing and Jace and I discussed it. Blackwell wasn’t backing off and I had to send him a message or else he’d be on me for the rest of the series.”

“A message that started the cascade of the team losing!” Max protested, his voice rising in volume with each word. “That was idiotic. Reckless. Asinine. Risky—” Max stopped himself abruptly. “Oh.”

_Learn to take a risk._

Hitting Blackwell had been a dangerous choice, with immediate shitty consequences, but Alec was betting on the long-term payoff. Learning to take risks, even when it made him uncomfortable. One risk at a time.

Alec could only nod to his brother in reply.

The set of Max’s shoulders eased and he took a drink from his water. “Cool.”

“‘Cool?’” Magnus said with disbelief. “You’ve been furious with him for the last hour.”

“Nah, we’re cool.”

“Lightwoods,” Magnus muttered under his breath just loud enough for Alec to hear. And for Alec to get achingly lost in the warmth and familiarity he heard in that one word.

Alec reached out and gently tugged at the cuff of Magnus’ shirt. Magnus looked even more stunning in person than he had in the pre-game picture he’d sent. “I…. I, uh, like this.”

Magnus visibly swallowed before he answered. “Thank you.”

“Wow,” Max said, startling Alec. “It’s late. So, so late. And I have class and….” Max stood. “Why am I even trying? You two just stay here and have fun.”

Alec’s cheeks flamed. “Night, Max.”

Magnus glared at Max. “Always a delight. You traitorous bastard.”

“I have no regrets.” Max tapped the table then made his way out of the bar.

Leaving Alec alone with Magnus.

Alec watched Max until he’d disappeared from sight, then took a breath and faced Magnus. “So my brother just set us up.”

“I’d strangle him if I didn’t think he’d find a way to make an inappropriate joke about that too.”

Alec smiled. He liked that Magnus had been protective when Max started railing on him. He liked that Magnus got along with his siblings. He liked _Magnus_. Way too much for his own good.

Magnus shifted in his seat and played with his ear cuff. “Am I to assume by your swift arrival that you live in Gramercy?”

“Literally next door. I love this neighborhood.”

Magnus circled both his hands around his glass as if he needed something to do with them. “Max…. He shared with me that you told him about…last night. I’ll be quite honest, Alexander, after what didn’t happen….” Magnus furrowed his brow, staring into his drink as if the melting ice would hold the same answers as a fortuneteller’s tea leaves. His fingers twisted around the cocktail napkin under his glass. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Seeing Magnus flustered was…new. “Yeah, me either.”

Magnus lifted his eyes at that, tipping his head to the side. The lines between his eyebrows remained. “I don’t want to be sad around you, Alexander.”

“Same,” Alec replied immediately. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he knew he didn’t want Magnus to feel _alone_. “You’re one of the best parts of my life, Magnus. I don’t want to lose that— _you—_ ” Because we can’t be together. Not yet. “You know what I mean.”

“You won’t, right? I am contractually tied to you for the next two years.” Magnus drew his shoulders back, flicked his hair into place, then lifted his glass, swirling it in the space between them. Alec recognized each movement for what it was—Magnus bracing his defenses, erecting his wall. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve already started talking to the Angels’ front office. We’re going to open up initial conversations on your new contract soon.”

They were having two different conversations and yet the same one. But now wasn’t the time to push for hard truths.

All he could give Magnus right now was, “I’m scared as shit, Magnus, but I trust you. I have no doubt the wait will be worth it.”

 

****

 

Magnus was sure Max was going to have something to say about his outfit, but he didn’t care. Maybe he was dressing slightly scandalously for the restaurant they were going to, and he definitely shouldn’t have been getting dressed thinking about how Alec would look at him…. But he ignored that much-too-responsible voice in the back of his head and undid a few more buttons, checked to make sure his polish wasn’t chipped, and applied a thick layer of red gloss to his lips.

Chairman looked up at him as if to say _you’re not fooling anyone_.

“I know,” he retorted.

Chairman slinked away, lazily waving his tail.

Izzy had chosen a restaurant that wasn’t far from Magnus’ loft, so he walked—inhaling the spring air and tilting his head back to take in more of the sunshine. It was much too early to be having dinner at all, but Alec was scheduled to be at the Angels’ bus at seven pm and none of them were planning on being at the next game, so Izzy had demanded a family dinner.

A family dinner that included Magnus.

“Not business,” Magnus muttered to himself. “This dinner is not business”—he caught eyes with a man walking down the sidewalk—“and you should say no.”

Random stranger glared at him as he brushed past. “Fuck you.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Not interested, darling.”

Magnus opened the door to the restaurant and slipped inside, spotting Izzy’s cascading black hair and heading in her direction.

“Magnus!” Simon called out as he approached. “The party’s here.”

Magnus twirled—likely leaving a very festive stream of glitter in his wake—and Simon grinned ear-to-ear.

Izzy approached and kissed his cheeks with deliberate care, then used her thumbs to wipe away the lipstick she’d left behind. Her eyes were soft when she pulled away. “Thanks for coming.”

Magnus thinned his lips. “He told you. Or Max did. Or Clary. Which means possibly Simon as well.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes. He had no idea why she was lying, but he was…grateful. “Very well then. Where do you want me?”

“Back there. We’re adding another table so there’s a bit more leg room.”

Magnus slid into the booth running along the wall just as Alec was sliding in next to him, having appeared from somewhere in the back. They’d been texting all day—not quite as much as in the last few weeks, but nearly normal—so Magnus felt like he’d already said hello to Alec a dozen times today. Alec had on a black shirt with the two top buttons undone and a curl of hair falling onto his forehead that Magnus wanted to brush back.

“Hey,” Alec said, leaning against Magnus as Izzy maneuvered the tables in the order she wanted them, then her and Simon sat across from Alec and Magnus.

Magnus set his phone on the table, and began to play with his rings, giving his fingers something to do. “I would say good evening, but it is definitely afternoon.”

“I’m not even hungry,” Alec whispered to him. “But I can’t say no to Izzy.”

Magnus huffed. “I am familiar with that problem.”

“Hey, guys!” Clary was nearly skipping as she entered the restaurant. She bounded over and wrapped each of them in a hug and took the seat next to Alec at one of the heads of the table. “I ordered drinks and appetizers.”

“You just got here,” Simon pointed out.

“I called ahead.”

“She’s thorough,” Magnus praised, earning a blinding smile from Clary. “She knows how to keep me happy.”

“It’s all of our goals to keep you happy, Magnus,” Izzy said.

“Some of us more than others,” Simon added, then yelped at what had to have been a poorly covert double assault under the table if Simon’s head swinging between Clary and Izzy was any indication. “Ow! Fine. I’ll behave.”

Next to Magnus, Alec sighed and mumbled, “Should’ve said no.”

“Who invited the zamboni driver?” Magnus quipped.

Max appeared through the kitchen door, carrying a tray and saving Magnus and Alec from further embarrassment. “Your drinks.”

“Do you work here?” Magnus asked.

“Nope,” Max said brightly, not offering any more of an explanation. He set a mug down in front of his brother. “Coffee for you instead of alcohol, Alec. It will put hair on your chin.”

Alec scratched at his beard. “I need the help.”

Magnus accepted a golden drink from Max. “Please ensure none of your chin hair ends up in my drink, Grizzly Adams.”

“No promises. My beard does what it wants—it’s very manly.”

“Your beard needs to check its privilege, Alexander.”

Alec shook his head, chuckling. “You’ve been spending too much time with Max.”

“Despite his Benedict Arnold tendencies”—out of the corner of his eye he saw Max taking the seat next to him—“I…tolerate your brother.”

Max clamped his hands over his heart. “That hurt, Magnus.”

Magnus looked over his shoulder at Max. “I’m sure not quite as much as utilizing an entire bag of dicks.”

Alec broke out into a rumbling laugh and Magnus felt as if his entire world had been set right.

The meal passed much too quickly—filled with laughter, stories, and Alec at his side. He barely spoke to Alec, but there were shared glances, Alec tapping his arm to make a point, hearing his name cross Alec’s lips with this… _depth of emotion_ tied to it. It was all familiar—much too familiar. And Magnus could only hope that someday it would be more.

The plates were swept away and coffees replaced the drinks. Alec was glancing at his cell every few minutes, tracking the time, and Magnus could nearly feel the nervous energy rolling off him.

“Ready to get on the bus?”

Alec nodded. “It’s annoying that we have to go stay in Newark instead of being at home, but I get why Coach does it that way. I’m just ready to get there now. Settle into that head space. Where are you going to be for the game tomorrow? I could still get you tickets if you want.”

“Based on my past two appearances, I’m guessing it’s safer for your superstitions if I don’t show up. Regardless, I can’t. I have a client who is in final auditions for a new Broadway play. We’re meeting with the producers before their current show and staying to watch.”

“Is that something you like? You know…Broadway?”

Magnus sneered. “No.”

“Me either.” Alec sounded relieved. He picked up his cell and spoke to everyone. “I have to go. The bill is already taken care of.” Alec stood, clamping Simon on the shoulder, kissing Clary and Izzy’s cheeks, wrapping up Max in a one-armed bear hug from behind, then…

Alec’s hesitation made Magnus’ heart lurch. Magnus extended his hand. “Good luck tomorrow, Alexander.”

Alec took Magnus’ hand in both of his, sliding his fingers under the bracelets on Magnus’ wrist, holding tight. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Magnus felt the warmth of Alec’s fingers on his skin for hours after.

 

****

 

_Game Three_

_(Series tally - Devils lead two games to none)_

 

They weren’t far from home, but the Devils’ arena was distinctly unfriendly territory.

The stands were an undulating mass of blood red and black. Posters with ferocious devils body checking terrified angels. Faces painted in the hellish masks. Rally towels in the shape of flames. It was all meant to make the fans feel like they were intimidating, but Alec had been a pro for too many years to allow the crowd to dictate how he played.

Garroway had been right—the Devils entered the rink pissed. And it showed in the sloppiness of their play from the beginning. By the second period, the Devils had racked up more penalty minutes in this one game than they had in the series so far. Then Blackwell threw his gloves down and challenged Santiago to a fight. If the Devils were hoping to pick up momentum by Blackwell beating down Raphael, then they’d chosen the wrong target. Raphael had Blackwell on the ice within seconds, so fast that another Devil charged in trying to defend their center and the rest of the Devils seemed to take their name to heart—all hell breaking loose.

Alec leaned back, placing his elbows on the top of the net and surveying the chaos. The Devils’ goalie wasn’t making any move to come out of his net and Alec was fine with that. Garroway stood with his arms crossed at the bench and gave a slight shake of his head when he caught eyes with Alec. Alec didn’t need the reminder. He’d gotten the message the first time—no touching another player. Goalie fights were more for entertainment during a brawl than anything else, and Alec wasn’t feeling particularly entertaining. It wasn’t like he had anything to prove anyway. He’d put Blackwell in his place and now Raphael was doing a damn good job of reminding him where he belonged.

From what Alec could piece together from his vantage point, there would be a mess of penalties following this, but the Angels were likely to come out with fewer penalty minutes and much more pride.

It was almost the end of the second period and the Angels were ahead by two-nothing.

Alec had a feeling that lead was only going to get bigger.

 

****

 

Tessa grabbed hold of Magnus’ wrist and turned his cell in her direction. “Are you checking sports scores at the intermission of a Broadway show?”

Magnus continued to scroll despite Tessa’s steely grip. “He hasn’t been ejected—yet. His save percentage tonight is above his end of season average, which was one of the highest in the league. Even the shots against is better, which means that Jace must have pulled the offense and defense back in line. Although the penalties in minutes is a bit alarming. Not nearly as alarming as it is for the Devils, mind you—”

“Magnus, do you have a fever? You’re speaking gibberish.”

“The Angels are playing the Devils tonight in the playoffs.” She still stared at him as if he wasn’t speaking English. He sighed. “Ice hockey, Tessa. It’s a long story.”

Tessa tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, nodding sagely. “The Angels versus the Devils. How very biblical. Are we rooting for heaven or hell?”

“Fair question when it comes to me. I’ve decided to align myself with good on this one.”

“They’re flashing the lights. We should go back in.”

He held up a finger. “One more minute left in the game, Tessa. Everything can fall apart so fast. I need to make sure.”

Tessa crossed her arms and Magnus continued to refresh the page, the seconds ticking down. He hit refresh again and the screen changed—the time remaining replaced with the word _Final_.

Magnus clapped his hand over his mouth, unsuccessfully stifling a giggle. “Four to one!”

“I assume that’s good news?”

He stared at the screen, all joy leeching from his veins as he realized what this meant. “They won and I’m at a _Broadway show_.” He looked to her, eyes wide with fear. “Tessa. No.”

She laughed at him and cradled her arm in his, dragging him back into the theater. “Explain.”

“I’m ecstatic about Alexander winning, don’t misunderstand that. However, hockey is a sport rife with superstition. And my client, the New York Blazing Angels’ esteemed goalie Alec Lightwood, may be one of the most superstitious. He drags everyone he knows into his rituals and routines. I attended the first two games and they lost. They’re playing in the Devils’ home arena tonight and I obviously didn’t attend, therefore….”

“Now that they’ve won it’s possible you’ll have to attend another Broadway show for their next game.”

“It’s guaranteed, not ‘possible.’”

Magnus gestured for Tessa to go first, then followed her into their row. Once they were settled in again, Tessa turned to him. “The best way to combat superstition—or to substantiate it—is through logic. We’re going to need to know all of his superstitions and the superstitions of anyone else whose support he values. Oh! I can make a decision tree document to track the flow and see which ones have validity.”

“You are gleeful about this.”

“I simply can’t resist a challenge, especially one that sees the powers of heaven prevailing.”

Magnus lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Will and Jem will be positively rancorous if I keep you out too long tonight.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Oh my sweet monoamorous Magnus, the two of them can find their own ways to keep occupied while I’m away.”

 

****

 

_Congrats on the win! Hate to do this to you right now but we need to talk_

Alec let that text from Lydia sink in as he tried to listen to Jace too.

 _Thx :) Will have to be tomorrow_ , he typed back to Lydia. _Jace is on a post game high and I’m stuck in a hotel room with him_

“Are you listening to me, Alec?” Jace said, but he wasn’t really looking for an answer, he was already pacing again, a perma-grin making his dimples pop out. “This is _it_. All of us are gods—some of us more than others”—he winked at Alec—“but this. _This_ is what has been coming together all season.”

Alec put his phone on silent and set it aside on the bed next to him. “Only took me being ejected and a two team brawl. Hockey—we’re doing it right.”

Jace just grinned bigger.

Alec cleared his throat. “You need me to vacate for a bit so you can get one of your fans up here?”

“Not tonight. I actually—” Jace abruptly stopped pacing, his eyebrows stitching together. “I’m going to take a shower and crash.”

“As in _sleep_? Or is that some kind of euphemism for threesomes that I don’t know?”

Jace responded with an overblown sarcastic laugh.

Well… That was a new development. Jace only turned down one-night stands when he was dating someone. And Jace rarely liked anyone enough to date them. Jace would tell Alec about her when he was ready, but Alec couldn’t help but taunt him a bit. “What? Don’t you need to get laid?”

“Just…don’t, okay?”

Alec smirked. “Whatever, Jace.”

Jace’s cocky smile was back in full force when he went into the bathroom.

Alec picked up his phone again, scrolling through his messages, going back to the last one he’d gotten from Magnus.

_Click this link and download this app_

While Alec waited for the app to install he responded to Izzy and Max and tried not to think about what Lydia needed to talk to him about. It was nothing he couldn’t put off for one more day. Alec launched the app, created a log in and was immediately inundated with notifications.

 

_Magnus Bane created the group “Not Superstitious, Just a Little Stitious”_

_Magnus Bane added Alec Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood-Lewis, Max Lightwood, Clary Fray, Simon Lewis, and Tessa Gray to the group_

 

Magnus: With one win toward the inevitable four that will launch the Angels into the second round of the playoffs, it is imperative that I, Magnus Bane, as Alec’s agent, ensure a smooth ascent for Alexander. To this end, I’ve enlisted the support of Tessa Gray, an up and coming Broadway actress and purveyor of logic, who will catalog each superstition, instances of success, and compute the ideal mix of superstitions to maximize the Angels heavenly trajectory

Magnus: TL;DR post all the ridiculous shit you do before games to make Alexander win

 

_Clary Fray changed her name to frayedknot_

_Max Lightwood changed his name to lightwoodsaves_

_Isabelle Lightwood-Lewis changed her name to thislightwoodscores_

_Simon Lewis changed his name to hanyolo_

_Tessa Gray changed her name to badumtess_

Alec laughed and went to his setting for the app.

_Alec Lightwood changed his name to mustacheyouaquestion_

Seconds later….

 

_lightwoodsaves changed the name of the group to “Puck Me”_

 

Magnus: I hate you all

 

_Magnus Bane changed his name to agent0069_

 

badumtess: Game on!

 

Alec didn’t know Tessa, but she was already rolling with the ‘ridiculous shit’ his friends and family seemed to thrive on. And he’d take all the help he could get.

With all of them behind him—and the Angels coming together on a new level—Alec was more hopeful than he’d been before a game in weeks.

 

****

_Day of Game Four_

_(Series tally - Devils lead two games to one)_

 

“So this is where we stand so far….” Magnus said to Alec.

Alec’s view of Magnus jostled on Alec’s cell screen from Magnus walking somewhere in the city as they Facetimed. He hadn’t caught up on all the group notifications that had popped up while he was sleeping. Hadn’t even texted Lydia back yet, but she hadn’t reached out to him again either. So Alec had to assume that whatever it was could hold for now.

Talking to Magnus had been the first thing he’d wanted to do when he woke up.

The view on Alec’s screen verified he’d made the right choice. Magnus had on sunglasses, electric blue headphones snaking from his ears, and Alec could only see the top part of his shirt but the buttons were just as undone as they usually were—despite the crisp spring day. Alec had a feeling summertime was going to be actual torture.

“….Isabelle must leave her hair down—unbraided—and continue to wear her pajamas, but only today since it’s an away game.”

Alec nodded, trying to focus on what Magnus was saying instead of how good he looked. “Got it.”

“Apparently Simon has a vintage mint-in-box Voltron that sometimes travels with him to the arena. Isabelle has designed an experiment protocol to test out whether it should remain in the apartment or go with him. And whether or not it being in or out of the box makes a difference.”

“Simon will never remove that thing from its box.”

“He’s already agreed to. Said his people were used to sacrifice.”

Alec laughed at that and Magnus smiled.

“Then there’s Clary. Tessa says Clary’s trips to the hairdresser also seem to have a positive correlation to your save percentage.”

“Did Clary already know that or did Tessa uncover that?”

“It was good old-fashioned _Puck Me_ teamwork. Anyway, Clary’s currently working to get a last minute appointment at her salon.”

This was all ridiculous to an extreme, yet soothing at the same time. Alec couldn’t believe any of them were willing to go to these lengths for him. “What about Max?”

Magnus’ looked into the camera. “He’s wearing his Angels hoodie.”

“He always wears his hoodie.”

Magnus nodded, the picture moving, and Alec guessed that Magnus was probably gesturing with his hands. “Therefore, Tessa doesn’t have the data to prove or disprove his one superstition.”

Of course Max, out of all of them, would find a way out of this. “Bastard. And you?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

Even if Alec hadn’t been able to see Magnus, his tone would’ve said everything.

Alec held back a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not.”

Alec held up his pointer finger and thumb with barely any space between them so Magnus could see. “A little bit sorry?”

“I’ll bitterly accept your modicum of regret.”

Magnus peered at something to the side and the sun glinted off his glasses and off lips. Fuck. He looked good today.

Alec itched at his jaw. His skin was still too tight, but he had yet to…perform that one pre-game ritual he’d never talk about in their group. Alec flipped his legs to the floor, moving so he could cover up the red that had blotched across his cheeks at the thought. “What else has Tessa figured out so far?”

“The beard has to go.”

Alec narrowed one eye. “Is that so, Agent Double-O?”

“That username was an impetuous choice,” Magnus lamented. Alec caught a glimpse of Magnus’ free hand going to his ear cuff. “Not well thought out.”

He liked seeing Magnus flustered. A bit too much.

“I’m not complaining.” He leaned forward and studied at the image of his face in the corner of the screen. “Is Tessa serious? The beard has to go?”

“I’m teasing you, Alexander. And quite honestly, I’ll eject her from the group if she dares to make the suggestion.”

Alec’s eyes snapped to Magnus’ face. “You like my beard.”

Magnus wasn’t looking at the camera anymore. “Perhaps.”

Alec filed that fact away. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Tessa is going to post all of her findings later today so everyone knows how to proceed with their day and prepare for future games.”

“Sounds like you have it all in hand.”

“My hands are magical things,” Magnus asserted.

Alec couldn’t hide his blush this time. “I have no doubt, Agent0069.”

 

****

 

“Just how awful is this going to be for me, Tessa?” Magnus asked as they waited in line at the theater.

Tessa scrunched up her face. “Dreadful. The worst ever. Worse than death.”

Magnus gave a dramatic sigh. “Just when I think I’ve descended as far into hell as I can go.”

Tessa adjusted the scarf around Magnus’ neck and patted his chest. “You can always go lower, Magnus.”

“It is a valid life goal.”

There was a vibration against his chest and Magnus plucked his cell out of his jacket pocket. He peered at the name in disbelief, checked the time, then read the name again. He tapped the notification— _I know you hate Broadway, but that jacket looks great on you_

“What is it?” Tessa asked, trying to see his screen.

Magnus held the phone out for her to read. “Alexander texted me. The game hasn’t even started yet and he texted me back.”

Tessa shrugged. “He must have looked at the sheet I posted in the group. His refusal to text anyone back is like Max’s hoodie. It happens every time so there’s no positive or negative correlation with that superstition and how he or the Angels play.”

Magnus hadn’t been in their group since this morning, so this was news to him.

 _Alexander!_ , he typed. _Texting me back before a game? You never cease to amaze me_

Alec’s reply came right away. _Idk if that’s a good thing or a bad thing_

 _Always good_ , Magnus sent back.

Magnus thought for a second, then added, _I like hearing from you before the game_

_I like this too_

Magnus smiled. _I’m glad you caught up on the group and the non-communication ban is lifted. Tell Max and Isabelle I’d rather be with them_

Three messages from Alec followed quickly: _Haven’t been in the group. ???. Only texting you_

Magnus stilled.

“He didn’t see your message to the group. He’s only texting me, Tessa.”

“So?”

He opened his mouth to speak and Tessa waited.

Alec had broken one of his superstitions just so he could talk to Magnus.

“Magnus?”

He didn’t know where to start.

Tessa crossed her arms. “There’s something you haven’t told me about.”

 

****

 

The Angels had never skated as cohesively as they were tonight. The line changes were perfectly executed, the defense hit hard and cleared the puck, the offense racked up a record shots on goal, and the area around Alec’s net was clear. Alec managed his space, and Jace managed his. No one was ejected or started a brawl.

Like Jace had said, _this_ was it.

If they continued to play like this, Alec had no doubt they’d make it to the championship series.

Alec even caught Garroway smiling when they exited the ice at the end of the third period, the scoreboard lit up with a bright red Angels - 3, Devils - 1.

Alec wished Magnus had been in the arena to see it.

 

****

 

Alec flipped his most recent gift from Magnus in his hand as he got out of the Uber in Brooklyn.

He’d bypassed his own place between here and the arena, but there hadn’t been anywhere else he wanted to go when the Angels’ bus had dropped the team off downtown.

He made his way into the lobby—getting a much warmer welcome from the doorman who’d let him up the last time—and took the elevator to Magnus’ floor. He knocked on the door and heard movement, then Magnus was swishing the door open. He’d taken off his jacket from the show, his sleeves were rolled up, his hair was disheveled, and Alec swore there wasn’t a look that Magnus couldn’t pull off flawlessly.

“Alexander!”

Alec held up the beard comb that had arrived at his hotel before the game. “You’re up two to four.”

“You like it.”

“Useful and surprisingly beautiful. Thank you.”

“So you’ve been released from the shackles of New Jersey?”

Alec slid the comb into one of the pockets of his duffel to keep it safe. “We got dropped off at the arena, but Max is studying for finals, and Izzy and Simon are at home, and I have no idea where Clary is….”

“You don’t have to be alone,” Magnus replied in an echo of the last time Alec had shown up here. “I was expecting our food and got you. I have a guest, but you’re more than welcome to come in.”

_A guest?_

_Our food?_

Alec frowned.

Magnus seemed to be holding back a smile as he beckoned Alec into the apartment and gestured for someone in the living room. “Alec. This is Tessa.”

Alec recognized her immediately from the picture Magnus had sent earlier.

“It’s lovely to meet you in person, Alec.”

Alec dropped his bag to the floor and shook her hand.

“Same.”

Alec’s gaze flickered to Magnus. He hadn’t really had a plan for what he’d do when he got here, but he had _no idea_ now that he was here and it wasn’t just Magnus and him.

Tessa glanced between the two of them. “Let me get you a drink, Alec. We’re having wine. Would you like a glass?”

Alec cleared his throat. “Water is fine. Thanks.”

Tessa smiled warmly and disappeared around the corner.

“While she’s in the kitchen”—Magnus glanced over his shoulder—“I loved hearing from you before the game, but isn’t a bit of a risk?”

“What do you mean?”

“Anyone could be looking over your shoulder in the locker room.”

Of course Alec had thought about that, but Magnus _was_ his agent, and, well, “It is a risk. But I’ll take it.”

Magnus tilted his head, brow furrowed. “Okay.”

Magnus led him into the living room, taking one of the wing-backed chairs and Alec settled onto the couch, accepting a glass from Tessa who sat down next to him.

“So how was the show?” Alec asked.

“Do you really have to bring up painful memories, Alexander?”

Alec took a drink of his water to keep from laughing.

“It was a very well-produced performance with a stellar cast,” Tessa replied. “But you should’ve seen Magnus at the Times Square sports bar we ended up in after the show. We were both ridiculously out of place but it became obvious very fast that Magnus was the most knowledgeable person in the bar when it came to the Angels. By the end of the game he had a line of people who wanted him to analyze their fantasy teams. I would say I’ve never seen anything like it, but this is Magnus we’re talking about.”

“I am captivating,” Magnus said with a flourish of his hand.

Alec didn’t know if there was anything he’d ever heard that he agreed with more.

He’d been thinking about Max’s question since their breakfast and he always came to the same conclusion.

Yes, Magnus was out and Alec did envy that. But it wasn’t why he was attracted to Magnus.

Magnus was intelligent and kind. Driven. Witty. Confident yet humble. He wore loud clothes and often spoke softly. He was a man who could command power and yet took the responsibility that came with that seriously.

He wasn’t just attracted to what Magnus represented, he wanted _more_ from Magnus because of the man he was.

There was a knock on the door and Magnus got to his feet. “Food’s here. I’ll be right back.”

With Magnus’ back to them, Alec took the opportunity to lean over to Tessa and whisper, “I want him in the arena but I…. I looked at your…thing you posted in the group and I can’t find any way it makes sense. I know he won’t go tomorrow, but if this series goes to seven games…? I need him there, Tessa”

Tessa studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll find a way around it.”

The door shut and Magnus returned, bags in hand. “We ordered more than enough. Please stay.”

Alec stood. “I should go.”

Magnus seemed to deflate in front of him. A heartbeat later, he had a forced smile in place. “Of course. You’re a busy man.”

Another right decision that felt wrong. But Alec was _trying_. There wasn’t anything else he could do for now. “Tessa, thank you for helping. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Goodnight, Alec.”

Magnus set down the bags on the counter and followed Alec to the door. Alec shouldered his duffel, opened the door then hesitated—turning around to face Magnus.

Alec reached out and brushed a bright purple strand of hair back from Magnus’ forehead. Hair that had been completely black this morning. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since we Facetimed. Is this going to be a new color the next time I see you?”

Magnus’ features were serious, but Alec saw the playfulness in his eyes. “I don’t plan these things. They just seem to happen.”

“I think everything you do is much more intentional than you want people to believe.” Alec steadied himself with a hand to the doorjamb then pushed away. “Goodnight, Magnus.”

Magnus took a step outside the apartment and watched as Alec tracked backwards to the elevator. “Good luck tomorrow, Alexander.”

 

****

 

_Game Five_

_(Series tally - tied two to two)_

 

Simon was the only one out of his friends and family that was in the Angels’ arena tonight and Alec couldn’t get over how wrong it felt.

He wanted them all here, but there were rituals and routines. Probabilities that were supposed to increase the Angels’ chance of success. He’d spent his entire career surrounded by players, like him, who collected superstitions and relied on over a century of hockey tradition. But there was ‘tradition’ and there was ‘standing on ceremony’—doing something solely because you thought you were supposed to, not because it made sense.

Too much of his life was doing what he’d always done—because it was expected of him—instead of what was _good_ for him.

And as he stood in the crease—missing the support of the people he cared about most in the world because of ridiculous superstition—he knew he was missing even more that could be good in his life.

He _knew_.

Wanting to be out wasn’t enough anymore—it was time for him to _be_ out.

He didn’t know _how_ or _when_. But _why_ ….

It was beyond time for him to be good to himself.

Alec took what felt like his first full breath in his entire life.

Felt steadier than he had in his entire life.

More hopeful.

The Devils were just as punishing in their assault on the Angels as they’d been the first four games, but the Angels were holding strong. _Alec_ was holding strong.

By halfway through the third period, the Angels were up one to two, then the defenseman who’d stolen the puck from Jace to win the second game smashed Jace against the boards.

Jace went down.

And he didn’t get back up.

 

****

 

On the TV, _The Sound of Music_ played but Magnus wasn’t paying the movie any attention. Tessa and he were in his living room, hunched over her iPad, reviewing the flow chart she’d made for the _Puck Me_ group. Rather, that’s what they’d started doing, but Magnus was currently squinting at the TV, trying to make sense of what was happening in the Angels’ game—confined to a small picture-in-picture box in the corner of his screen.

“We missed something.” Magnus picked up the remote, and—damn superstition—minimized _The Sound of Music_ and put the game on the big screen. The image that popped up made Magnus’ heart skip a beat.

There was an Angels’ player sprawled on the ice with medical staff surrounding him, and Magnus watched as the players around him—Angels and Devils alike—dropped to one knee.

“Who is that?” Tessa asked, her voice quiet.

He knew it wasn’t Alec, but beyond that, “I don’t know. I can’t see the number.”

One of the medical staff waved at someone off camera, then the players cleared out and a gurney appeared. A brace was lowered to the ice, and when the player was rolled, a chill settled in Magnus’ veins.

“That’s Jace Wayland. The Angels’ captain and one of Alexander’s best friends.”

Tessa sucked in a breath. “Alec has to be absolutely sick with worry right now.”

Magnus couldn’t find his voice to reply to her.

Tessa and Magnus watched the screen in silence.

Play restarted as soon as Jace was taken off the ice and the offending player was in the box. But the Angels couldn’t convert the resulting power play into a goal. They were shaken. Unsteady.

With eight minutes left in the game, the commentators announced Jace was injured—but conscious—and was being reviewed under the league’s concussion protocol.

Magnus didn’t know if Alec would hear that news until after the game was already over.

He was sure Alec didn’t know anything about Jace’s condition when the goal that tied the game came with six minutes left to play.

The Angels were falling apart.

 _Alec_ was falling apart.

And there was nothing Magnus could do to help him.

Then the goal that put the Devils ahead slammed into the back of the net at one minute before the end of the third period.

Tessa set her iPad on the coffee table and faced Magnus when the Angels’ third loss was official. “Are you okay?”

Magnus turned off the TV. “It doesn’t matter how I am right now.”

“It always does.”

Jace was injured. The Angels were now one loss away from ending their season way too early.

Alec had to be _hurting_.

Magnus shook his head. “It doesn’t. I’m more worried about Alec.”

“Magnus.” She said his name like a plea for sanity. “You and Alec can’t continue like this. Something has to break, and I don’t want it to be either of you.”

“Tessa—” Magnus’ cell began to ring. “It’s Alec.”

“Take it.” Tessa got to her feet and grabbed her iPad. “I’ll go.”

Magnus picked up the call and put the phone to his ear. “Hang on, Alexander. Tessa is just leaving.” He stood and kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Tessa.”

On the other end of the line, Alec spoke. “Tell her goodnight for me.”

The sound of Alec’s voice made Magnus’ heart hurt. _Physically_ hurt. He hadn’t even known that was possible. “Alec says goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Alec,” she said into the phone as she wrapped Magnus in a hug. In heels she was the same height as him, and she went to her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before she left.

Magnus closed the door behind her and put all of his attention on Alec. “Where are you?”

“Still at the arena. We’re getting on the bus soon. Coach didn’t want us to lose our focus, so he’s sequestering us in Newark.”

Before Magnus could ask Alec how he was, Alec was speaking again. “How was _The Sound of Music_?”

Magnus let the question of Alec’s well-being slide for the moment. It was obvious Alec wasn’t ready to talk about it. Magnus could be a distraction if that’s what Alec needed. “I loathe musicals, Alexander. I can’t take one more.”

Alec chuckled, but without any lightness to it. “I hate losing even more.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I think you underestimate how much I detest people breaking out into rhyming songs and choreographed dance numbers.”

Alec scoffed. “As much as you hated me in the beginning?”

_There._

The tone of Alec’s voice had shifted. Fractionally, but still better.

“More, Alexander.”

Alec huffed out a laugh. It was quiet and short, but genuine this time. “Ouch. I still need you to go.”

There was a span of time where Magnus could only hear the sounds of what had to be the locker room in the background, then Alec sighed—a world-weary sound that wounded Magnus’ heart even more.

“Jace probably isn’t playing tomorrow, Magnus. They’re going to announce it will be a game time decision, but it’s…. His chances for starting don’t look good.”

“Do you need me at the game?”

Alec hesitated at this. “Yes, but no. Our playoff run will end if we lose this next game. I need you on Broadway more.”

“You play dirty,” Magnus teased.

“Gotta go with what works.”

Magnus could picture the smallest of smiles on Alec’s face with the way he’d said that.

“And Jace?” Magnus asked. “Does he need any support?”

“He’s being fully evaluated now for a concussion, but he’s been conscious since the hit. He’ll be okay. He’s, uh…. He’s well taken care of.”

Magnus noted Alec’s pause, but let it pass without further scrutiny. “What do you need? And I’m not talking about where I spend my time for the next game.”

“This,” Alec answered, emphatic. “This is good. Just…stay with me on the phone for a little bit longer?”

Magnus settled into the couch. “As long as you want, Alexander.”

 

****

 

_Day of Game Six_

_(Series tally - Devils lead three games to two)_

Magnus picked his cell off his desk and texted Alec. _A friend gave Tessa tickets to Hamilton for tonight. I have hope_

The reply bubbles popped up right away. Then, _For me or the show?_

 _More for you than me_ , Magnus typed back. _My ears are planning a revolt. They don’t think I can hear them, but—plot twist—I can_

_Musicals are literally driving you insane_

_I’m painfully aware_

Four messages appeared on Magnus’ screen in quick succession: _Thank you. For last night. For everything. I don’t think I say that enough_

Magnus didn’t have to think twice about how to respond. _Only for you, Alexander_

The minutes ticked by after that, but Magnus didn’t get a message back. He set his phone down again just as Clary’s voice came over the intercom.

“Magnus? Sebastian Morgenstern called again.”

He pressed the button to talk to her. “And yet, I still don’t care. I have no desire to speak with him.”

“I’ll keep taking messages.”

“You do that.”

Magnus disconnected from the intercom and flipped on the TV in his office, switching it to ESPN. He worked until he heard the commentators begin to talk about the game tonight, then looked up from his computer and turned the volume higher.

“The Angels face elimination tonight against a team they should’ve beaten soundly.”

“I don’t know what’s happened to them in the post-season.”

“They’re still saying that whether or not Captain Jace Wayland plays tonight will be a game time decision and that doesn’t bode well for the Angels.”

“Usually I’d be saying that playing in New Jersey puts them at a deficit, but this series has been unlike any other I’ve seen.”

“Losing Wayland on the ice will be a definite deficit.”

“How are you calling this one?”

“I gotta go with the Dev—”

Magnus clicked off the TV.

He refused to accept any other scenario besides the Angels winning tonight.

Winning this series.

Winning it _all_.

 

****

 

In all the years he and Jace had been playing on the same team, there were less than a dozen times when Alec had taken to the ice as a starter and Jace wasn’t with him. At least Jace was on the bench tonight—listed on the official roster so that he could be dressed. But his skates wouldn’t touch the ice if the team doctor and Garroway didn’t allow it.

He didn’t have any signs of concussion, but the purple bruise spreading from his hip down this thigh was massive. Jace would’ve played through the pain, but Garroway had instructions from the front office to protect their investment, and Jace’s agent had been just as wary, pressing Jace that he needed to think about future seasons, not just the playoffs.

That wasn’t how Jace lived his life, but the choice wasn’t solely his.

So Alec took the Devils’ rink without Jace next to him, but carrying Jace’s brash attitude with him.

If there was any time to emulate Jace, it was now.

They couldn’t lose this game, and Alec would do everything in his power to make sure they didn’t.

 

****

 

Tessa held out her hands, a black box with a perfectly tied gold ribbon nestled on her palms. “For you.”

Magnus lifted the box and turned it over carefully. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. From Alec. In-ear Bluetooth headphones so you can listen to the game and not be too much of an ass about it.”

Magnus tugged at the edges of the bow and opened the box. There was a post it note on the headphone package reading:

 

_All charged and ready to go._

_Alec_

 

Magnus traced the lines where Alec had put pen to paper, then secured the top to make sure he wouldn’t lose the note. “Me not being an ass about it…. Your words or his?”

Tessa considered him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“His words.”

Magnus smiled. He was so… _gone_ for Alec. “Where are our seats?”

“Orchestra, Row C.”

Some of the best seats in the house. Magnus held tight to the box. Even if he couldn’t be in the arena with Alec tonight, he could take on one of Alec’s traditions as his own. “How about the very back row of the theater instead?”

Tessa tipped her head. “Paying it forward?”

“In a way,” Magnus allowed.

“I’m in.”

“Follow me to the box office, darling.”

 

****

 

There was nothing technically wrong with how the Angels were playing, but their dynamic was off. Uninspired. Alec did the best he could to make up for the lack of Jace’s voice on the ice. And every time he glanced at the bench, Jace was talking to Garroway or making the rounds as a shift came in—guiding players even though he wasn’t playing.

But the balance the Angels had achieved since the third game wasn’t there and all of them knew it.

It only took minutes into the first period for the Devils to realize it too.

The Angels were sliding into old patterns, reverting to the team they’d been at the beginning of the series instead of who they’d—literally—fought to become. And the Devils were systematically picking them apart. Again.

Ahead one to zero at the end of the second period, and barely hanging on to that slim lead, Alec pulled his Coach aside during the intermission. “We need him out there. Jace wants to be out there. And”—he sputtered, trying to think of the right words and failing—“we _need_ him out there.”

Garroway set his hands on his hips. “It’s risky, Lightwood.”

“I know. But it’s a calculated risk, Coach.”

Garroway huffed out a laugh. “I’ll do some calculations.”

Alec nodded and took to the ice, digging his skates in at the front of the net.

When play started again at the beginning of the third period and Jace was still on the bench, Alec gritted his teeth. Then Garroway was next to Jace, whispering in his ear and Jace was practically flying over the boards at the next line change.

Jace wasn’t anywhere near as fast or light on his skates as he usually was, and the first pass sent his way never touched his stick, a Devils’ defenseman stealing it and passing it to Blackwell, who tore down the ice for the net on a breakaway. Alec shuffled, lining himself up with Blackwell’s trajectory. Blackwell closed in fast and Alec backed up, eliminating as much open space as possible, then Blackwell went right and Alec exploded in that direction, dropping into a butterfly as the puck slammed into his leg pad.

The puck ricocheted and Pangborn took possession immediately, clearing it out to the right winger and pushing play into the offensive zone. This time when the puck was passed to Jace he picked it up cleanly and took off for the Devils goal.

Jace could’ve taken the shot himself, but he didn’t. He passed to Santiago who dodged one of the Devils and whipped his stick forward, burying the puck in the net.

The Angels didn’t look back. With their captain on the ice with them again their hard-fought rhythm fell back into step.

When the final buzzer sounded on a two to nothing win, Alec burst out of the crease and wrapped Jace in a hug, both of them surrounded in seconds by a giddy group of sweaty, rank hockey players.

Alec had his first shut out of the post-season.

The Angels had staved off elimination.

They had one more game to win before they advanced to the second round.

And there was only one place Alec wanted to be to celebrate.

 

****

 

Magnus sat at his kitchen counter, staring at his phone, silently willing it to ring or ping or make _any_ kind of noise. He’d been waiting to hear something—anything—from Alec since the Angels’ win. He’d heard from everyone except Alec, and he wanted to talk to Alec, and—

His cell skittered along the counter as it rang.

“Alexander,” he answered demurely. He couldn’t resist being a bit coy—teasing Alec—because he knew it would make Alec smile. “Did you have a pleasant evening?”

Listening to Alec’s low, rumbling chuckle was like sliding into a hot bath at the end of a long day. “I guess it was a pretty good night.”

“It was a great game,” Magnus praised.

“Better than _Hamilton_?”

“No question. An angel with majestic facial hair gifted me headphones so I could listen to the game—while also not being an ass to my fellow theater attendees.”

“I’m…glad they worked out.”

“Perfectly,” Magnus added. He had to make sure Alec knew that gift had been _perfect_. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Magnus.”

Magnus’ heart sped at the gentleness when Alec said his name. “You know, I’m technically ahead four to three in our gift-giving extravaganza, but—considering what you saved me from tonight—I may have to award you a bonus point.”

“A hockey player never turns down points,” Alec said seriously.

“Consider us tied then.” Magnus balanced his cell between his shoulder and his ear, removing his rings one by one, stacking them and his necklaces in a pile on his counter. “There may have been one minor incident caused by the headphones, though.”

“What was that?”

“My exclamation of joy after the second goal may have been…noticed by the five rows in front of me. Luckily, it came at a particularly lively portion of the show.”

“Only five rows?” Alec said dubiously.

Magnus could picture him doing that thing where he squinted only his left eye. Magnus smiled.

“Maybe ten,” he admitted. “On the positive side, I learned that full chorus numbers are particularly cacophonous, so you and the Angels may want to time your momentous plays for those crescendos to save Tessa further embarrassment. You know, only if you insist on keeping up this tradition for the next two rounds until the championship.”

“Magnus! Don’t jinx me. That’s now three games at home we’ve lost and three away games we’ve won. It’s not supposed to happen that way….” A rustling of fabric came over the line, then mumbled voices. “Hang on. I may lose you here.”

There was an extended moment of silence—broken up with occasional beeps—and Alec came back on the line. “You still there?”

“I am.”

Then a knock on his door.

Two quick taps that inexplicably stole every molecule of oxygen from the room.

Alec had come here after his win.

When Magnus didn’t move or say anything, Alec cleared his throat. Magnus heard the nervous sound in his ear and in the hallway.

“Are you, uh, home, Magnus?”

Magnus rediscovered the ability to speak. “Showing up unannounced again, Alexander?” His voice was steadier than he’d expected it to be.

“Maybe.” Alec’s tone had gone quiet. Unsure. “The last two times I came here and I didn’t…. If you’re— I mean….”

He didn’t want Alec to ever be unsure of him.

Magnus stood to bridge the mere feet that separated them. “You’re always welcome here.”

He clicked off the call, unlocked his door, and opened it.

Alec’s chin was down, his eyes cast in the shadows of his lashes. He pocketed his cell and fiddled with the strap of his bag. “Hey.”

Magnus swallowed.

The line he hadn’t wanted to cross with Alec was as real as the threshold they stood on opposite sides of now. But Magnus had invited Alec into his home, literally, over a week ago. Metaphorically…. LA had changed things between them, but Alec had inspired an overwhelming response in Magnus from the first moment they’d met.

Sending each other presents. Having dinner with Alec’s family. Alec texting and calling him before his siblings. Alec wanted him, and he wanted Alec. They were essentially _dating_ Magnus realized with a start.

Magnus knew where he stood. What he was willing to sacrifice….

He wouldn’t know what Alec’s intentions were unless he let Alec past that threshold tonight.

Magnus took a deep breath. “Do you want to come in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooooo. all of that just happened. the next chapter.... it's an important one. i won't say more than that :)))))
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus and alec feel all the feels. all of them....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day sixty-three of the shadowhunters hiatus (spoiler: i'm still not okay)
> 
> so this chapter took me a lot longer than i thought it would. and not just because of the word count (although it is still a ridiculous 13k words). i have to thank l and j for reading this over and helping me maintain my sanity. this chapter wouldn't be what it is without them. and it may never have been posted without all of YOUR support. thank you ♡ xx
> 
> only one hockey term this time around:
> 
> called up - when a player is taken from the minor league team to a professional team
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: we're delving into magnus' past in this chapter. so there are mentions of sexual assault and violence.

“I don’t want to come in.” Alec blew out a long breath and met Magnus’ eyes. “I want to stay.”

Magnus’ hand slipped off the door, his lips parting in shock, and Alec wanted to kiss him. Needed Magnus lips on his more than he needed his next breath. But he couldn’t.

He’d come here with one goal in mind. One focus.

And kissing Magnus wasn’t it.

Not yet.

Alec shifted on his feet. “You said I’m always welcome here. I just need to know….” A stuttering breath passed through his lips and Alec wished he could calm his racing heartbeat. “Will you let me in even if—” Alec paused, finding the right words. “What if I want things to change between us?”

Magnus didn’t react—didn’t say anything—and Alec hesitated.

He couldn’t read the expression on Magnus’ face. There were no signs of Magnus’ walls going up, though. No bravado. No hint of the intimidating man Alec knew Magnus could be. Magnus looked…vulnerable. And Magnus hadn’t said one thing when he was always quick with a witty reply. This side of Magnus was new. Unfamiliar.

In this moment, Alec felt unfamiliar in his _own_ skin. But he knew what he needed to do.

He’d come this far despite his fears. To take a risk. He took an experimental step inside Magnus’ apartment and Magnus moved with him, allowing Alec in. Alec breathed a sigh of relief and dropped his bag to the floor, kicking the door shut behind him.

He wanted to wrap Magnus in his arms, but if he was going to do this right then all he had were his words. He always seemed to lose his ability to speak when Magnus was around, but saying what he was thinking out loud was important. Getting his words _right_ was important.

Because _Magnus_ was important.

Alec pushed up his sleeves and straightened his shoulders. “We won tonight and all I could think about was _you_. What you would say to make me laugh. How you would look at me. How you would make me _feel_ ….”

Magnus took a step back, shoulders bumping against the wall behind him, his features softening. “Alexander—”

Alec shook his head to silence Magnus. He had to get this out.

He closed the distance between them, stopping when they were only inches away. As close as he would allow himself to get. “I can’t have you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. You make me feel things that make me want to upend my entire existence. I’m not supposed to be here with you, and yet”—Alec shook his head, trying to make sense of it all—“it’s the only place I want to be.”

Magnus peered up at him. “I’m not supposed to want you here, but I do.” Before Alec could fully register that Magnus was saying exactly what Alec had hoped to hear, the corners of Magnus’ eyes and lips had tipped down. “I know I implied that you were bad for me when you left that first night, but I’m the one who is bad for you.”

Alec searched Magnus’ face, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m your agent, Alexander. Our relationship is supposed to be professional. It’s my job to protect you, not put you at risk.”

“Magnus,” Alec huffed in frustration. “I know you. You’d protect me even if you weren’t my agent. Out of all of the shit that I’m trying to work through—trying to understand—that you are my agent is the least of my worries.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “Then what are you worried about?”

“You,” Alec said with force. “What getting involved with me could do to _you_. I’ve listened to everything you’ve told me and I won’t ask you to be anything but who you are. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want you to be hurt because of me.” Magnus set his hand on Alec’s hip—fingers pressing in one by one—as if Magnus was unsure if his touch would be allowed.

Alec closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Magnus’. Those two simple points of contact grounded him. “What the hell are we doing to each other?”

“I don’t know,” Magnus said quietly. Magnus’ breath coasted across his cheek. Magnus’ fingers held him tight. “But if you don’t take a step back, I’m going to kiss you. And that, Alexander, is a line we can’t uncross.”

Alec didn’t move. “It’s a line I want to cross, Magnus.”

Magnus gripped him tighter.

“Just not right now,” Alec answered honestly. Alec pushed back—forcing himself to pull out of Magnus’ hold—putting needed space between them.

Magnus crossed his arms and Alec could see Magnus’ defenses going up.

Alec scrubbed his hands over his face. He wasn’t doing this right. Didn’t know how to be this _open_ with anyone in his life. But if they were going to make this work then Magnus needed to know everything that was going on inside his head. “I called Izzy on the way here. Her firm works with IE and— I asked her to start looking into a media relations plan for me coming out.”

“A plan for you coming out….” Magnus repeated slowly.

Alec hadn’t known how Magnus would react to that news, but he definitely hadn’t expected almost no reaction. He began to pace. “It can’t happen immediately— according to Izzy, these things have to be executed the right way.”

“Alec.” Magnus’ features fell. “Please tell me you’re not doing this because I’ve pushed you.”

Alec shook his head. “I won’t lie and say that you aren’t part of the reason I’m doing this—but not because you’ve pushed me. I’m doing this for me. _I’m_ ready.”

There was a hint of a smile on Magnus’ lips. “Alexander. That’s…huge.”

“Yeah.” Alec took a deep breath and met Magnus’ eyes. “I know.”

Magnus broke out into a full grin. He looked _proud_. And that meant much more to Alec than he thought it would.

“It’s also really fucking scary,” Alec admitted, a nervous chuckle slipping between his lips before he had a chance to stop it. He kicked at his bag—at that cats-eye mask inside. He couldn’t hide behind that mask for much longer and the thought terrified him. “I’ll be the first in the league. So we’re talking heavy media scrutiny and even more pressure for me to be perfect in goal.”

“Logically I understand that. As to how it all unfolds….” Magnus’ twirled his hands with a graceful flourish as he talked. “I wish I knew more to help you through this. To make it easier for you.”

“You’re already helping me, Magnus, and that means _everything_ ,” Alec asserted. It was the only thing he was certain of at this point. “But I also know that I can’t expect you to wait for me to come out. And even when I do come out, I can’t ask you to put your job on the line for me.”

“Maybe I’m willing to,” Magnus said without hesitation.

Alec swallowed. “Magnus—”

“There is no ‘maybe’ about it, Alexander. I am willing to.”

“I can’t ask you to—”

“You aren’t,” Magnus cut in. “I’m offering. I’d already decided that before you showed up here tonight.”

Alec’s heart skittered as he took in the enormity of that statement. Magnus had already thought about this. About _them_ and what it would take to me something work between them. Alec wasn’t alone in this attraction that felt like so much more, but he didn’t know if that made this easier or harder….

“Look. I know _all_ of this is backwards. I may not be the most experienced guy out there but even I know this isn’t how things usually work….”

“Clearly,” Magnus said with a sly smile. “By my estimation, we’ve been secretly dating for just under a month now.”

Alec stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“This epiphany was just as much a shock to me as it appears to be to you.”

Alec thought about it. The texts, the calls, dinners, dancing, gifts…. “Oh my god. We have, haven’t we?”

“Since the night—”

“I sent you those books,” Alec finished, earning a smile from Magnus. “I want to keep doing that. Getting to know you. Spending time with you. All of that.”

Magnus nodded. “But not becoming…physically involved with each other—drawing the line there—remains.”

“It has to for now. I don’t know how else to explain it…. I just— If we we’re going to give _us_ a try then we need to be on equal footing first. I need to be out and your career can’t be at risk. It needs to be fair for both of us. Whatever this is between us feels….”

“Important,” Magnus said. “Meaningful. Rare.”

Alec grinned. Easier. Having Magnus in his life definitely made everything easier. _Better_. “All of that.”

“You Lightwoods and your damn honor,” Magnus chided fondly. “I accept your virtue-maintaining terms, Alexander. I also agree with them.”

Alec relaxed. There was more that was unsettled in his life than sure at this point, but that Magnus was with him in whatever came next was more than he’d hoped for.

“I know I said I wanted to stay, Magnus, but not for”—Alec swept his hand in front of him—“sex. I want to be here because of you. When I’m here I don’t have to pretend. I don’t have to be the stoic big brother or the flawless goalie. When I’m here I don’t have to be alone. Being in your apartment, with you…. It makes me happy. I feel safe when I’m with you.”

“To be frank, you look wrecked right now—not safe or happy.”

“It’s been a long day,” Alec allowed.

“You’re right—you have no need to be stoic or flawless here. Please. Sit down.”

Alec crossed the room and dropped to the couch, sighing. “It’s selfish of me to even ask to stay here, isn’t it?”

“I am intimately acquainted with self-interest that keeps you near me,” Magnus said, his lips curving into a smile as he followed Alec into the living room. “When I said you are welcome here—I meant it. That will never be contingent on expectations outside of mutual respect.”

Alec looked up at Magnus, shaking his head. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Say so much and yet give away so little.”

Magnus toyed with the pendant of the single necklace he wore around his throat. “No one is supposed to know that’s what I’m doing.”

Alec smirked. “Yeah, well, I see right through it.”

Magnus dipped his chin down, studying Alec with a restrained smile, then gestured toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Alec shook his head. He was more worn down mentally than physically at this point. “Just tired.”

“Take my bed,” Magnus offered. “You can’t sleep on the couch before a game as important as the one tomorrow.”

“Shit. I can’t drive you out of your own bed. I figured you’d have a guest room—”

Magnus scoffed. “This is New York and I’m not an athlete. I have one bedroom and an office that is the size of a glorified closet. Until tonight, I’ve never had reason for someone to spend longer than a few hours with me.”

 _A few hours_. It likely hadn’t been Magnus’ intention, but Alec couldn’t help but think what activities those hours were filled with that only required one bed.

“But,” Magnus continued, oblivious to Alec’s inner monologue, “I do have a king size bed. We could draw a line down the middle—since both of us seem to be so intent on not straying past any of them.”

The same bed. And Magnus had actually made it sound like them sleeping next to each other wouldn’t be actual torture. “See? You’re playing it so cool.”

“I am not”—Magnus smirked—“unaffected.”

“I know, Magnus,” Alec replied. “I know you feel what I feel. That makes this all…harder.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow.

“Oh my god,” Alec groaned. “Not like that. I mean, okay, yeah…. But— Shit.”

“I am a thirty-five year old man, Alexander. I can control my libido.”

Alec huffed out a laugh. “Well, I’m twenty-eight. Maybe I can’t.”

“You already are. I would have fallen to my knees at least a dozen times by now—”

“Magnus! You’re making this—”

“Harder?” Magnus quipped.

Alec glared at him. “Not easy.”

Magnus bit at his lip. “I’ll try my best not to be enticing.”

Alec had to laugh. “Really not helping, Magnus.”

“Come to bed, Alexander.” Magnus held out his hand. “You need sleep.”

“Probably better if we don’t—” Alec gestured at Magnus’ hand. “You know. Considering.”

Magnus chuckled. “Very well. Please. Take the bathroom first. I have to answer a few emails then I’ll be in.”

Alec stood, swiped his duffel off the floor and shut himself in the bathroom. Alec’s bathroom counter at home was nearly empty, while Magnus’ was packed with hair products, makeup, brushes…. They were so _different_.

And yet…compatible. It had been just over a week since his first time here—less than two months since he’d met Magnus—but his entire life had changed. For the better. Because he and Magnus understood each other in a way Alec had never experienced with anyone else.

He made quick work of brushing his teeth and changing his clothes—shucking off his Angels sweatshirt and leaving a tank top and sweatpants on—then called out to Magnus as he emerged from the bathroom. “All yours.”

Magnus looked up from his cell screen, gaze raking over Alec.

“I’m just going to go—” Alec pointed at the bedroom, then tugged at the bottom of his shirt. “In there. I’m going in there.”

The corner of Magnus’ lips tipped up. “I’ll be right in.”

Alec pushed the door open and dropped his bag next to it. Magnus’ bed took up almost the full width of the room. A massive four-poster frame with scarves draped from the upper beams. The bedspread was a swirl of colors, and when Alec pulled back the top cover he found crimson satin sheets. Sheets that matched the red ceiling Alec had seen the first time he and Magnus had Facetimed. The first time he’d looked at Magnus and realized how physically stunning he was.

Now he was getting into Magnus’ bed. Going to sleep with Magnus next to him. And they both wanted more, but weren’t going to—

“My bed doesn’t bite. Unlike me,” Magnus said as he entered the room.

Alec startled and looked at Magnus. His hair was loose, tucked behind his ear on one side. Face makeup free and all jewelry removed. He was wearing silk pajamas bottoms that were black with silver threads, and the gray Angels tee he’d worn to the first game of the series.

He was just as beautiful like this as he was when flawlessly put together.

Alec realized he was skirting the edges of full-on leering and cleared his throat. “Dressing for the home crowd?”

Magnus grinned. “I usually don’t sleep in anything. But I decided that was likely not an appropriate choice tonight.”

Alec closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Right. That wasn’t— Okay. So. Is there a side, you know, that you prefer?”

Magnus tipped his chin down as if to say _really, Alexander?_

Alec chuckled softly. “Side of the _bed_ , Magnus.”

“Take that one.” Magnus moved without hesitation and pulled back the covers on the other side, sliding in. “How is Jace?”

Alec was caught off guard by the question, then realized that Magnus was probably just trying to make this easier on both of them. More normal—when it definitely wasn’t. Alec got in the bed and pulled the sheets over himself as he lay down on his back. “Very…Jace.”

Magnus smiled as if he knew exactly what that entailed. Then he turned to his side, fluffing up the pillow under his head and facing Alec. “And how are you?”

Alec turned his head to look at Magnus instead of facing him. All he could think about was keeping specific body parts from lining up in just the right way…. But he had made this bed—in an almost literal sense—and it was his to lay in now. _Fuck it_. He flipped over, mirroring Magnus’ position. “Not at all okay and yet really good. This is simultaneously the worst idea I’ve ever had and the best.”

Magnus seemed to be considering that. Then he splayed his hand in the empty space between them. “This is…difficult for me too.”

For some reason, that admission made Alec feel much more at ease. He quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you were a thirty-five year old man who could control his libido?”

Magnus leveled Alec with a steely gaze. “I’m not dead.”

“I know.” Alec let his hand fall to the bed, inches away from Magnus but not touching. “Just…. Don’t vacate to the couch, okay? I want to be here with you.”

“Okay,” Magnus agreed with a soft smile. “Goodnight, Alexander.”

“I don’t know about good—” Magnus placed his finger in front of Alec’s lips, silencing him, and Alec couldn’t help but smile. “Night, Magnus.”

 

****

 

Magnus woke up to Alec’s beard scratching at his chest through his t-shirt. His eyes slammed open and his heart thudded as he realized that his hand was curled around the back of Alec’s neck, fingers settled in the soft hair at Alec’s nape.

It took him only seconds to piece together from Alec’s breathing that Magnus wasn’t the only who was awake. And yet Alec hadn’t moved.

Magnus lifted his head just enough to confirm that Alec’s eyes were open. And that despite the behemoth size of his bed they were curled up in one corner of it. Even Chairman was rolled in a ball in the space between Alec and Magnus’ legs. Magnus’ heart tripped up a bit at the sight. “Good morning, Alexander.”

“You weren’t supposed to wake up until after I’d dragged myself off you.” Alec’s breath flitted over Magnus’ stomach where his tee had rucked up, raising chillbumps on Magnus’ skin. “I like this way too fucking much.”

Magnus tightened his hold around Alec’s neck and Alec closed his eyes, sinking into him.

This was it. It didn’t matter how long it took for Alec to come out or if Magnus did set his career in flames. This man was worth it all.

Magnus ran his fingers through Alec’s hair, Alec’s lips parting with the languid ministrations. Magnus had to get out of this bed or all notions of lines, or honor, would be decimated. “Take the bathroom first. I’ll make coffee.”

With that, Alec did drag himself off Magnus, sending Chairman mewling in a dejected flurry off the bed. Alec glanced over his shoulder then fell face first into the pillows again, mumbling something Magnus couldn’t make out.

Magnus tried not to think about how his pillows would smell like Alec when he came to bed again tonight. He dropped his feet to the floor and pushed up, keeping his back to Alec to avoid noting whether Alec had the same _problem_ he did. “What was that?”

Magnus heard the sheets rustling, then, “I said, that was the best I’ve slept in months.”

With his back still to Alec, Magnus smiled. He spoke over his shoulder. “Naturally. You were with me.” He opened his closet door and took out linens. “Towels and washcloth for you. Shampoo and soap in the shower—in case you didn’t bring anything.”

“I did, but thanks.”

Magnus set the towels on Alec’s bag. “Let me make you breakfast.”

“I’m not going to say no to that.”

His problem under control enough not to be blatant, Magnus turned toward the bed. Alec was sprawled face-down across the sheets. His tank top scrunched up, biceps bulging where Alec cradled the pillow in his hands, sweatpants low on his hips, hints of the curve of Alec’s ass peeking above the waistband. Magnus took a moment to appreciate the view. “Is there any way to convince you that I’m a breakfast meat?”

Alec rolled his eyes.

Magnus smirked. “Maybe next time then.”

Alec pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, itching at his beard. “I may need to call Izzy and see how much we can speed this process up.”

“We have all the time in the world—if not the patience. Today, you need to focus on your game.”

“Yeah. Shower, coffee, food, then the arena.” Alec scratched at his beard again, frowning. “Do you have anything I could use to trim my beard? I always do that on game day, but I don’t think I remembered to pack my trimmer.”

“Of course. There’s a pair of scissors on the counter you can use.” Magnus started for the door, then stopped. “Any other pre-game bathroom rituals I can lend a hand with?”

Alec’s face flamed.

Magnus was confused at Alec’s reaction until he thought about what he’d just said and….

Oh.

Well then….

Magnus gaped and his throat went dry when he realized he’d unwittingly stumbled upon a ritual Alec definitely hadn’t shared with their group. “On second thought, I’m going to go out— To get coffee…and breakfast. Walk. A long walk.” The thought of Alec taking care of himself with only a wall between them…. Magnus had to conjure decidedly unerotic images to keep his problem from making a sudden resurgence. “You do whatever—” He took a deep breath. They had to be realistic about this. “No breaking of tradition today. Let’s be honest. There’s only one way you and I are going to make it through possibly months of waiting.”

The color was still high on Alec’s cheeks when he finally met Magnus’ eyes again. But Magnus could recognize the playfulness in the twist of his lips. “Lend a hand, huh?”

“I’m very sure _that_ would be crossing a line. Although”—he smirked—“I could just watch. That wouldn’t involve any touching.”

Alec cleared his throat and ran his hand over his lips. His cheeks had gone even redder. “You sure about that?”

Magnus had never Alec be so _forward_. If he’d thought last night was torture then he’d been wrong. So very, very wrong.

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Alexander. You are extraordinarily good for me, but you also drive me mad.”

Alec smirked. “I’ll just get in the shower now.”

“And I will get us something to eat while practicing the virtue of self-restraint and definitely not imaging what you’re doing. To yourself. In my shower.” He walked out of the bedroom, muttering a plethora of swear words under his breath.

“Have fun,” Alec called out after him.

“Not nearly as much as fun as I’ll have later in my own shower,” he retorted.

There was a beat of silence, then, “Not fair, Magnus!”

Magnus clicked the door shut, laughing. He looked down at his outfit and realized he hadn’t even gotten changed to go out. At least he’d mindlessly slipped on a pair of shoes at the front door. There as no way he could go back into his apartment without offering to join Alec in his pre-game ritual.

He ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it down and adjusted his tee so he didn’t look nearly as wrecked as he felt inside and headed for the corner diner.

He was still processing everything Alec had said to him last night. Getting out of his apartment—into the sunshine and on the streets that he’d been walking for years, yet looked so different today—made all of it much more real. Alec wasn’t talking about a theoretical time that he might come out. He was engaging his sister in a plan for it to happen. Alec had spent the night in his bed, nothing had happened, and Magnus was glad it had gone that way.

Since Camille, he’d kept himself occupied and entertained with many beautiful men and women. He’d heard the whisperings of _Magnus Bane doesn’t do relationships_ , and while he couldn’t fault the logic behind the statement, his current status wasn’t because he didn’t want commitment…or love. He simply hadn’t met anyone that a night—or two—wasn’t enough to satisfy his curiosity.

But Alec….

The realization that he wanted Alec at all had come to Magnus slowly—like a glass of water filled one drop at a time. And now that he had that glass in his hands, he wasn’t interested in downing it to quench his thirst. He understood that each new drop—if given time—had the potential to fill a well. A river. Or an ocean.

Alec had so much to give. And Magnus wanted to wait for each new drop from Alec. Sure that the enormity of what Alec offered couldn’t be contained in anything Magnus could hold in his hands.

Thirty minutes later—when Magnus was decidedly more at peace that he and Alec were doing this the right way, and he was sure he’d given Alec enough time to _relax_ then get fully dressed again—Magnus made his way back to his apartment.

He opened his door to Alec seated at the counter, hunched over his cell, typing with one hand and petting Chairman with the other. Except for the duffel bag slung on the back of Alec’s chair, everything about the scene in front of him screamed domesticity and normality and it was everything Magnus hadn’t thought he wanted.

Magnus took in the furrowing of Alec’s brow. “Everything okay?”

Alec’s head snapped up. “Didn’t realize you were back. Yeah, I was just texting with Izzy.”

Magnus dropped the coffee and to-go bag on the counter and took the stool next to Alec. Alec’s hair was still wet, sticking out in all directions and he smelled like Magnus’ soap despite his assertion that he’d brought his own toiletries. Magnus smiled.

“How much did you tell her?”

“She knows I’m serious about coming out. She knows I stayed here last night. She doesn’t know any of the details of what we talked about….” Alec set his cell face down on the counter and Chairman vacated his lap with a plaintive huff. “Listen, Magnus—”

“You don’t need to ask again, Alexander. I will wait.” The furrow in Alec’s brow smoothed over at that. “There’s something terribly attractive about the prospect of dating you Victorian Era style. For awhile.”

“Look. I know there’s a line we can’t cross—and I feel like a total idiot asking—but I just…. I’d like to touch you. Somehow.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow and Alec’s cheeks began to stain with a shade of pink that made Magnus forget how to form coherent sentences.

“Just….” Alec worried his lips between his teeth. “Maybe your hand?”

Magnus swallowed. “Already trying to live up to that Victorian gentleman standard? You realize we did just sleep together?”

Alec cocked his head toward he bedroom. “I like that.” Alec entwined his fingers with Magnus’. “I like this too. We can do this, right?”

Magnus had held Alec’s hand at the club in LA. He already knew what Alec’s larger, calloused hands felt like against his skin. And Magnus had done much, much more sinful things with his hands than this, and yet he was having trouble finding his voice. He cleared his throat. “Touching like this is innocent.”

Alec rubbed slow circles over the back of Magnus’ hand with this thumb, seemingly entranced. “It definitely doesn’t feel that way.”

It didn’t.

“We’re talking months at most,” Alec said in a quiet voice.

Magnus had already arrived at the same conclusion. “Wait until we negotiate your next contract. Don’t come out until then. You need to be at that table in a strong bargaining position.”

“I assume that’s my agent speaking.”

“It is.”

“And what would my friend say?”

“You do it whenever you’re ready,” Magnus replied.

Alec finally tore his gaze away from their joined hands and lifted his eyes to Magnus’. “And what do you say?”

“I’ll wait however long you need.”

Alec swiveled around in his seat so he was facing Magnus completely and placed his other hand over Magnus’, sliding his fingers down until they were circled around Magnus’ wrist. “I won’t do anything to harm your career either. We have to find a way around that.”

“For fairness’ sake and in the name of Lightwood honor and integrity of course.”

“Pretty much.” Alec lifted Magnus’ hand and placed a soft kiss on the back. He let his lips linger, looking up Magnus through his lashes.

Magnus swallowed. “Alexander?”

Alec had a wicked grin on his face. “I gotta work on that line thing, right?”

How could one kiss on the back of his hand make him feel like he was going to spontaneously combust into a pile of ashes?

Magnus gave a clipped nod. “Right.”

To Magnus’ chagrin—and complete delight—Alec placed one more soft kiss then let Magnus’ hand go.

Alec shook his head and grabbed his cup of coffee. “This all feels like a…negotiation.”

“If so, I’ve clearly won,” Magnus said proudly. Alec smirked at that over his coffee cup and Magnus was sure his cause of death would be listed as eyelashes. “Are you nervous about tonight?”

Alec placed his elbows on the counter. “The first round is the furthest we’ve gotten since I joined the Angels. I’m not nervous. I just expect a lot out of my game tonight. Jace will still be slower—but we have to win and we will.”

“So what musical should I regale myself with here while you are doing battle?”

“The fact is—I want you at the arena. I want you, Izzy, Max, Clary, Simon—even Tessa…. All of you. I don’t want to be a slave to my superstitions, but I can’t let go of them all at once either. I’ve been talking to Tessa outside of the group, and the only thing she could come up with was all of you coming but staying in the zamboni room with Simon.”

“From the throne room to the dungeon,” Magnus lamented. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Will you come?”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “I think you’ve already learned I can’t say no to you.”

Alec chuckled. “Now I know for sure.” Alec set his cup down and reached behind him, slipping the Angels sweatshirt he’d been wearing last night when he’d shown up at Magnus’ door from between the straps of his bag and handing it to Magnus. “The zamboni room gets cold, so maybe you could wear this?”

“It’s your sweatshirt,” Magnus said simply, clinging to the soft, thinning fabric.

Alec began to work at that spot on his left hand immediately. “I know ratty, casual wear isn’t really your thing, but today is a big game—”

“Thank you.” Magnus reached out, took Alec’s hand in his again—squeezing gently, giving Alec what he hoped was reassurance. And perhaps a tiny bit of payback.

The tipping up of Alec’s lips set the axis of Magnus’ world askew in a frighteningly beautiful way.

“You’re welcome.”

“Now that I have appropriate raiments for tonight, my Gramercy hipster, let’s eat.”

Alec shook his head, smiling.

Magnus would do everything in his power to ensure that smile never left Alec’s face.

 

****

 

_I didn’t realize you were a giant????_

Alec read the text from Magnus again, unsure what the context was until a picture quickly followed it.

Magnus was wearing Alec’s royal blue Angel’s sweatshirt. The sweatshirt that was the first piece of Angels’ gear Alec had ever owned—a gift given by the owner’s wife to all new team members. It had a vintage Angels’ logo on the front and his name and number on the back. It was at least two, maybe three, sizes too big on Magnus but Alec had never been more turned on by someone so fully-clothed.

The collar—stretched from years of use—hung low on Magnus, exposing the arch of Magnus’ collarbone. Magnus had rolled up the sleeves, showcasing his forearm and a wide gold band on the wrist of the hand planted on his hip. Alec could only see half of Magnus’ face in the picture, but it looked like his eyes were lined with gold as well. His lips and nails were a red that was absolutely sinful.

Gold, red, and royal blue.

Magnus was dressed like an Angel and he knew exactly how good he looked. So instead of drooling over Magnus via text—as he was currently doing staring at his cell screen as he walked across the player’s lot at the arena—Alec typed out a reply to Magnus’ remark about Alec’s size, _In more ways than one :)_

 _How very ungentlemanly of you_ , was Magnus’ immediate reply.

Alec barked out a laugh. _You’re welcome. Btw my clothes look good on you_

_Everything looks good on me_

Alec couldn’t deny that. _Truth_

 _Are you stripping down or gearing up?_ , Magnus sent.

_Still in my suit_

There was a pause then just a line of dots from Magnus, _…._

Alec stared at the screen trying to make sense of that text. _What does that mean?_

_Actual suit or birthday suit?_

Alec laughed again. He did a lot more of that with Magnus in his life. _Actual suit. We all wear one before the game. League dress code_

_I’m going to need a photographic evidence of this_

Alec paused in the middle of the player’s lot and snapped off a picture. Then typed, _This one was from Tom Ford. Think they may be wooing me for an endorsement deal_

_I’m impressed_

_As my agent?_

_Sure. Let’s go with that_

Alec was grinning like an idiot and he didn’t care who saw him. _Heading into the locker room now. I’ll text you before the game starts_

_Until then, Alexander_

 

****

 

Magnus wound his way through the hallways in the arena, reading the signs to uncover where he was supposed to go. He wasn’t nearly as ostentatious as he had been at the last home game, but he felt comfortable and that had everything to do with the ragged sweatshirt he was being swallowed up in. Before last night, it was something he never would’ve worn in his apartment—let alone in public—but he wore it tonight proudly.

“Hey Magnus!” Simon called out, emerging from a room into the hallway. “Isn’t that Alec’s?”

Magnus pivoted to give Simon a view of the Lightwood 89 printed in fading white lettering on the back. “Has he always had the same number?”

“As far as I know. Another superstition I guess. Most goalies wear a one, thirty, or thirty-one.”

“You’ve never asked him?”

“Have you met Alec? He’s not into sharing. Well, except for with you apparently—” Magnus lifted his eyebrows and Simon grinned sheepishly and waved down the hallway. “Anyway, follow me. I’ll take you back to where the others are.”

“Hey, babes,” Clary greeted him when they entered the zamboni room. “Only you could pull off making an old sweatshirt look couture.”

Magnus kissed her cheek. Despite wearing garments fit for a sports god, he knew he looked good. He’d rolled up the sleeves and put on matching solid gold cuffs that circled both his wrists. Foregone his necklaces for a belly chain that wrapped around his waist. But it was highly likely he would be the only one to know it was there since Alec was being gentlemanly and Magnus wasn’t interested in having anyone else’s hands on him anytime soon.

Magnus looked around the sparse, freezing room. “And how do we watch the game? There’s no TV.”

Clary pointed at the door behind her. “There’s an office back there. TV, couch, and drinks in there. And isn’t quite as cold.”

“Excellent.”

Izzy sauntered over to him, a smile on her face as she pecked him on the cheek. “Hey, Magnus.”

“Still going to deny you know what’s going on?”

“No reason to. Alec made his choice and I always support him.” She smoothed a hand down Magnus’ arm and pulled at the fabric with a gentle tug. “I may just support him more than one hundred percent in the decisions he’s making lately.”

How all of the Lightwoods were this charming was beyond Magnus’ comprehension. “Does that mean I have your approval?”

“You didn’t need it. But of course you do, Magnus.” Izzy glanced around. “Where’s Tessa? I was hoping to meet her in person.”

“Alexander extended an invitation to her but she insisted on going to see a show tonight to uphold that part of the superstition.”

Izzy surveyed his sweatshirt again. “I can’t believe he talked you into wearing this horrid thing.”

“It is as cozy as I’m sure your flannel pajama pants are,” Magnus defended. “You told me I would understand one day.”

“Can’t escape fate forever, I suppose.” Izzy cocked her head toward the office door. “Max is in there if you want to get settled in.”

Magnus grinned and turned on his heel, entering the office. It was a tiny room with a desk littered with papers, shelves of tools, a state-of-the-art LCD screen mounted in the corner, and a timeworn brown couch where Max was seated, flipping the remote in one hand and holding a can of beer in the other.

“Maximilian,” Magnus greeted. “Good to see you again.”

“Nope. Not my name.”

“Maxwell?”

Max screwed up his face.

“Ah. Alec and Izzy aren’t the only ones with shortened monikers.” Magnus sunk—literally sunk, very far down—into the cushion next to Max. “Don’t fret, Max. Your full given name shall remain off-limits.”

Max leaned over and pulled a can of beer out of the mini-fridge in front of the couch and handed it to Magnus. “You’re awfully agreeable for being banished to Simon’s lair tonight.”

Apparently Magnus was going fully blue-collar tonight. He cracked the beer open. “Just…hopeful.”

“Nothing to do with the fact that you’re wearing my brother’s clothes? Or that you and Alec had a Lightwood-Bane sleepover last night?”

“Nothing at all,” Magnus said with complete composure.

“The unresolved sexual tension must have been palpable.”

Magnus considered whipping off a sarcastic retort. Instead he shook his head woefully. “You have no idea.”

Max was quiet for a moment. He pursed his lips then took a drink. When Max looked at him again there was a weight to his gaze that Magnus hadn’t seen with Max before. “He likes you, Magnus. I’ve never heard him talk about anyone the way he does about you.”

“He tells you everything?”

“Even if he didn’t I’d know. Once Alec is in, he’s all in. He gives everything for what he believes in—ideals and people. Alec is tough, but his penchant for self-sacrifice leaves him vulnerable. Don’t forget that.”

“I wouldn’t have expected to hear the protective brother speech from you.”

Max shook his head, then smoothed an errant strand of hair off his forehead. “No. This is the ‘be careful’ speech. For both of you. This won’t be easy, so just be careful.”

Magnus gave Max’s words the serious reply they deserved. “We will.”

“I mean….” The corner of Max’s lips tipped up. “Like, use protection. And lube. Lots of lube.”

Magnus huffed. “And there you are.”

“Just keeping you on your toes.”

Magnus’ phone pinged and he set his beer on the floor to open up his messages. He found a picture of Alec dressed in his gear with Jace leaning down next to him, holding the phone. _Traded my Tom Ford for Bauer_ , the text below it said.

That was a brand name Magnus wouldn’t have known less than two months ago.

Then another message popped up, _Jace says it’s time for me to stop texting. In his words—time to get my other head in the game_

Magnus reread the text. So Jace knew about them….

Max cleared his throat and Magnus realized he was leaned over looking at the screen too. “You sure you two didn’t sleep together?”

Magnus scoffed. “Very.”

Max gestured for the phone and Magnus handed it over, watching as Max typed, _Protect both heads out there, big brother_

_Will do Max_

Max handed the phone back and Magnus typed, _Good luck tonight, Alexander_

There was a pause, then, _Stay warm :)_

Next to Magnus, Max groaned. “Oh my god. Make the schmoopiness stop.”

Magnus tucked his legs under him and let the warmth of Alec’s sweatshirt enfold him.

At this rate, he didn’t know if he’d ever stop smiling.

 

****

 

“Time to listen up,” Garroway said as he entered the locker room.

Alec turned his cell off and tossed it into his bag, putting all his attention on his coach.

Garroway stalked in front of them. “I’m not going to say what I usually do before a game like this, because we, as a team, haven’t been in this position before. You don’t need the reminder to skate hard or to leave everything you have on the ice—you already know what lengths you are physically and mentally willing to go to win.” Garroway paused, looking at each of them in the eye. “Tonight we bring our hearts. Our soul. Tonight we let all other bullshit go and remember what makes us passionate about this sport.” Alec nodded, breathing deeply, internalizing every word. All around him, he could see his teammates doing the same. “This game matters more than any other game you’ve ever played and you will win it because you are _stronger_. More _focused_. Because you want it _more_. I know this is breaking tradition, but we have to play different to win tonight. We have to _be_ different.” Garroway pointed at Jace. “Wayland, call out who hits the ice first with you tonight.”

Jace grinned, dimples popping out, and stood. “Velasquez.” There was a wolf whistle and clapping. “Pangborn.” The volume of the room increased exponentially as Emil clanked his stick on the floor. “Santiago.” A chorus of _get it, papi_ that had Raphael shaking his head in loving derision then thunderous applause. “And the zen master—called up to keep all our asses in line—Meliorn.” Meliorn stood for a delicate bow and the bench rumbled beneath Alec from the chants of _ohm_ that filled the locker room.

“And in goal?” Garroway boomed.

“Lightwood!” Jace and the rest of the team shouted in unison.

Alec’s already red cheeks heated even more.

Garroway turned toward him. “You ever led the team onto the ice, Lightwood?”

Alec shook his head.

“New tradition, gentleman,” Garroway said. “Whoever can make me smile by the end of the game gets to put their skates on the ice before anyone else in the next game. Tonight’s your night, Lightwood.”

Alec stood and flipped his cage into place.

He let all his fears go.

Tonight he brought his passion.

Tonight was _his_ night.

 

****

 

They were so close to the locker room that Magnus could hear the clattering of skates as the Angels entered the rink, the cheering of twenty-thousand people dull in comparison.

Three periods.

Sixty minutes of play.

Magnus watched Alec take to the ice first and breathed in the scent of Alec that surrounded him in this ratty, beloved sweatshirt.

The Angels playoff run wouldn’t end here.

And where he and Alec were headed was just as promising.

 

****

 

The first Angels’ score came only thirty seconds into the game. The second one, three minutes later. Not even five minutes into play and the Angels had a larger lead than they’d had in any home game so far. Twenty-thousand voices left the rink and boards shaking.

The Devils kicked up the pace of the game immediately. Their play was less physical, with a swift line changes that kept the puck in motion non-stop. They were skating clean tonight—cohesively—and Alec knew the Devils were driving the Angels hard to see how much pressure they could take before they started to crack.

It was home game and—because of how the series had gone so far—the Devils were waiting for the moment the Angels started to fall apart.

But that wouldn’t happen tonight.

Alec found himself smiling, shooting retorts at Jace when he skated by with a smirk. Blackwell looked particularly pissed with every shot of his that Alec deflected with a grin. By halfway through the second period the Angels hadn’t scored another goal, but the Devils had yet to put anything on the board. And the relentless pace the Devils had set was starting to wear _them_ down. The Devils were a powerhouse team, not built for stamina.

The Angels were literally skating circles around them by the end of the second period.

“Rest up,” Alec taunted Blackwell as he skated by with sagging shoulders toward the tunnel at intermission.

“Fuck you, Lightwood,” Blackwell bit out.

Jace smirked, calling out, “My bro here is hung like a quarter horse. Pretty sure there wouldn’t be any rest if there was fucking involved.”

Blackwell sneered and headed for the locker room without another word.

Jace slapped Alec on the back and Alec guffawed, following Jace into the tunnel.

 

****

 

Magnus gaped and Simon’s singing cut off immediately.

“On a steel horse I ride?” Simon protested, sitting atop the zamboni. “Bon Jovi? Dead or Alive?” He pushed his glasses up, frowning. “And I thought the night my band played at that goth club by accident was a tough crowd.”

Izzy grinned at her husband through the office door. She had her feet kicked up on the armrest of the couch, head lounging on Magnus’ lap as Magnus wove tiny braids in her hair.

Max stood at the door to the hallway, head resting against the doorjamb as he listened to the sounds of laughter coming from the locker room.

Clary was perched on the jump seat next to Simon on the zamboni, kicking her legs like a child dangling their toes off a sun-drenched dock.

“Sing it again, Simon,” Magnus allowed. “We shall give your wittiness the appreciation it deserves.”

A chill had settled into the room from the ice Simon had just dumped down a chute to be carted away.

But Magnus was anything but cold.

 

****

 

Down two goals heading into the third period, the Devils reverted to their strategy of brutalizing their way to the goal. The Angels’ players tightened up their game in response. Their passes had to be faster, more precise, to work against the barrage of sticks, limbs, and bodies being thrown in their way.

The battle for the puck became more vicious in front of the nets—the Angels looking to increase their lead and the Devils seeking to close the gap.

The Devils offensive line wasn’t nearly as fast, but much more aggressive. Unlike the third game, though, the Devils were avoiding the penalty box at all costs.

With just under three minutes to go in the game, Alec’s attention went to movement on the other side of the ice—where the Devils’ goalie was rushing for the away bench and a sixth man was bounding over the boards.

“Empty net. Empty net,” Alec yelled.

The Angels executed an immediate line change, bringing their best defenseman to the rink and Alec dug his skates into the ice, adjusting his position to the puck whipping into the Angels’ defensive zone.

Velasquez took the two-on-one and Alec called out the shooting hand of the forward line. The Devils’ left winger spun past Velasquez, and Pangborn picked him up, slamming him into the boards and sending the puck careening. Alec slid to the cover the side of the net as the puck bounded into the corner and was picked up by a Devils’ D-man. Alec whipped his head around, shifted to protect the other side of the net, but Blackwell was already there, pulling his stick back and slamming the puck toward the net. Alec threw his weight to the side and up, the puck ricocheting off his mask, the heavy thud of contact echoing in his ears. The left winger appeared in Alec’s peripheral vision and Alec dropped down to stop a rebound score, but the red light behind him lit up before Alec could even blink.

The fans groaned as one disgruntled unit.

“You okay?” the ref asked as he skated by.

His ears were still ringing from the shot to the head, but Alec nodded and got to his feet.

There was only a one point difference between them with two minutes left on the clock.

The momentum could shift completely with one play.

But Alec wouldn’t let the Devils tie the game.

Overtime meant a sudden death scenario. And whoever had the highest score on the board at the end of the game moved on to the second round. Whoever lost wouldn’t play again until October.

This was where the Devils would get desperate. This was when the intensity could lead to mistakes. To fights. To injuries.

Alec’s knee ached. He was exhausted.

He thought about the lengths Garroway knew Alec was willing to go for the game. And about Magnus and the limits Alec wouldn’t let hold him back anymore.

Alec pushed himself into the proper stance again and refused to look at the clock. It didn’t matter how much time was left. He would play with just as much heart as he’d had the first time he’d put on skates until that final buzzer sounded.

The arena was a sea of white—fans on their feet and pounding at the boards. The familiar swish of ice and clanking of sticks felt like fire in Alec’s bones.

“Two minutes to glory!” Jace yelled at center ice.

Alec shook off the score and let a slow smile go.

 

****

 

Magnus couldn’t sit—but his shaking legs were barely able to hold him up either—so he leaned against Max for support, his arm entwined with Max’s as the puck dropped.

One and a half minutes.

Santiago won the faceoff and sent the puck into Devils’ territory. Magnus couldn’t keep track of the puck as the two teams battled for possession.

He glanced at the game clock at the bottom of the screen. One minute.

The Devils’ offensive line changed out and the Angels’ quickly followed with their best defenders, keeping the puck in Devils’ territory. The puck passing between the Angels’ first line with skilled flicks of the wrist.

Thirty seconds.

Magnus clamped on to Max tighter as a Devils D-man snatched the puck from Santiago and took off down the ice.

 

****

 

Alec hunched down and prepared for the breakaway, making minute adjustments to his position.

“Take the shot!” someone screamed.

The Devils’ defenseman’s stick swept back and he slapped the puck with punishing force. Alec had less than a second to react. He went left, protecting the upper corner of the goal and the puck slammed into his chest….

Just as the final buzzer roared through the arena.

 

****

 

Izzy jumped to her feet the second the game ended and crashed out the office door.

Magnus sagged into Max’s side. “They won.”

“Of course they did,” Max said with complete calm. “Come on. Let’s go see Alec.”

Max slung his arm over Magnus’ shoulders and pulled him into the hallway just as Izzy was taking off, catapulting into Alec’s arms, burying her face in his shoulder as he lifted her off her feet. Simon and Clary didn’t hesitate to jump in after her, bracketing Alec between them. Max let go of Magnus and when Izzy dropped back to her feet Alec reached out with one hand and pulled Max in by the back of his neck.

Magnus held back, letting Alec have his moment with his family. Memorizing every detail of Alec’s victorious smile. Then Alec’s eyes found Magnus and Alec was shaking off his family with kisses to the top of all of their heads and closing the distance between them and wrapping Magnus fiercely between his arms.

Alec was drenched in sweat. He stank.

And there was no other place Magnus wanted to be.

 

****

 

The rest of the world could fuck off.

This was what Alec was fighting for.

Where his passion, his heart, and his soul belonged.

Alec closed his eyes, holding Magnus tight.

 

****

 

Magnus stepped into the elevator at IE’s headquarters, found a space against the wall that he could lean his shoulder on and slumped against it. Normally he wasn’t so casual in how he presented himself, but it had been a late night. After the game he’d ended up at a restaurant with Izzy, Simon, Max, Clary, Alec, Jace, and most of the Angels’ organization. Between the fans and other players, Magnus had barely spent any time with Alec, but it had been worth it just to see Alec receiving the praise he deserved for that win.

He took his cell out of his pocket and pulled up his text thread with Alec.

_Awake yet?_

He hit send and held on to his phone as the elevator moved up to his floor.

As soon as he stepped out Alec’s reply came through.

 _Uggghhhhhh_ , was all the message said, then a picture of Alec with his face half buried in a pillow—his hair sticking up at all angles, his eyes still soft from sleep.

Alec in the mornings was a view Magnus could get used to very fast.

 _Go back to sleep_ , he typed. _I’ll text you after work_

_Have a good day_

_You too_

Magnus pocketed his cell and stepped up to Clary’s desk, eyeing the gigantic bouquet of lilies on the corner of it. “Flowers? And who is courting my queen?”

Clary’s lips lifted merely a fraction, but she otherwise ignored his question. “Good morning, Magnus. Your schedule is updated and messages are your desk. Izzy called to set up an official appointment with you. Said she wanted to run some things by you before you talk to Mrs. Herondale.” Her professional persona eased up as she leaned forward. “Alec’s really doing it? He’s really coming out?”

Magnus couldn’t help but smile. “On his terms, yes.”

Clary beamed at that and her phone began to ring. Clary glanced at the display and picked up the call. “What can I do for you, Charlie?” Clary rolled her eyes in response to whatever the person on the other end of the line said. “Hang on.” She put the call on hold and looked up at Magnus. “Sebastian Morgenstern is downstairs. He wants to see you.”

Magnus scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

Clary picked up the call again. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Bane is unavailable— No. I absolutely don’t want— Yes, Mr. Morgenstern. How may I help you?” Clary went quiet as she listened, her back straightening, then her brow furrowing. A chill passed over Magnus. She placed her hand over the phone and whispered to Magnus, “He says you need to look at your email before you decide to dismiss him this time.”

Magnus’ heart thudded in his chest as he got his cell out, swiped his screen and pulled up his email. Clary had become practiced at clearing his email since taking on the job as his assistant, so there was only one unread message—sent one minute ago. Magnus’ blood ran cold as he opened the message with a picture attachment. Fury overtook Magnus the second it came into focus.

It was of he and Alec on the street after their first meeting with Sebastian. Magnus and Alec’s hands twisted together because Alec had frozen to the spot in the middle of the sidewalk and Magnus had been pulling him to the side to talk. But as one frame—a moment caught in time—Magnus knew that picture implied something very different.

“Get him up here,” Magnus said through clenched teeth.

“Magnus—”

Magnus turned his cell for Clary to see. Her lips parted in shock and she began to say something, but Magnus cut her off. “This has to end now.”

Clary nodded. “I’ll notify security to be ready just in case.”

“You do that.”

Magnus turned on his heel and entered his office, taking the seat behind his desk and preparing himself.

Sebastian swept into his office and banged the door shut. Every nerve in Magnus’ body fired at the jarring sound, but Magnus restrained any reaction.

Sebastian stared him down. He held a manilla envelope in the hands clasped in front of him. “I’m glad you finally decided to see me.”

Magnus’ stomach churned but he wouldn’t give Sebastian the satisfaction of seeing how thrown he was. He leaned forward and steepled his fingers together. “Bribery didn’t work so now you’ve turned to threats?”

“The word threat implies that there may or may not be danger ahead,” Sebastian stated cooly as he walked over to Magnus’ desk. “I guarantee you—this is no threat.” Sebastian opened the envelope in his hands and dropped a stack of pictures on the desk, rifling through them as he spoke. “You and Alec having dinner with his family. You and Alec on the street together. Alec outside your apartment at night and then the next morning.”

Sebastian paused and Magnus didn’t say anything. He met Sebastian’s eyes without hesitation despite the dread skittering through his veins.

Sebastian smirked and unbuttoned his jacket, dropping into the seat in front of Magnus’ desk. “Agents don’t keep regular hours but even these are irregular by entertainment standards.”

“Your desperation is fouling my air,” Magnus dismissed. “I can tell you with complete confidence that Alec and I don’t have a physical relationship.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? These pictures suggest otherwise.”

Magnus had dealt with men like Morgenstern before. He wouldn’t be swayed by a stack of photos that could easily be explained away. “What exactly is your end game here?”

“Alec is our most prominent former client. If he comes back then others will follow. It’s business, Magnus—not personal. But you have trouble separating the two, don’t you?”

Magnus wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. So he did. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“ _You_ have no idea who you’re facing,” Sebastian viciously sneered.

Magnus raised an eyebrow at Sebastian’s outburst.

Sebastian smoothed a hand down his jacket and his features eased again. “We know Alec is gay and the woman he’s been seen with is merely covering for him. One of his ex-boyfriends has been more than happy to provide all of the confirmation we require. While I understand his contract with Gallant doesn’t preclude such proclivities, it doesn’t allow for any press that would tarnish the company’s reputation. They can, and will, drop him if what we know—for lack of a better term—comes out.”

Magnus refused to confirm or deny Alec’s sexuality. Instead, he replied with a vague, “A hockey player’s sexuality may be news but it is not scandalous.”

Sebastian crossed his legs and leaned back, the picture of ease.

Magnus’ skin prickled with apprehension.

“You’re correct that you could spin that story,” Sebastian said. “However, there is also the small matter of your…upbringing. It’s appalling how cheap the glue is that they used on your sealed court records in Indonesia. Two decades later. I’m sure you’d thought you were past that ugliness.”

Magnus blanched.

Sebastian grinned, all teeth and venom. “You are publicly tied to him, Magnus. One anonymously sent tip and _boom_ —international scandal. The closeted star hockey player in a secret relationship with the lothario bisexual agent with a blood-soaked past. The drama will be irresistible.”

Magnus clenched his jaw, fighting to hold his front. “What do you want?”

“I want Alec’s money and the money his compliance will bring back to my firm,” Sebastian stated definitively. “Alec stays in the closet, you continue to book him endorsement deals based on his clean image, and he comes back to us as a client—or we will ruin both of you.”

Magnus jabbed a finger at the pictures. “This is blackmail.”

“It is,” Sebastian confirmed with a haughty smile. “I’ll give you the day to speak to him but I expect that the next time I call your office I won’t be dismissed.” Sebastian stood and swished his hand in the direction of the desk. “I’ll leave those photos here. For your reference.”

The moment the door shut behind Sebastian, Magnus picked up his cell with shaking hands and dialed.

“Magnus!” Izzy answered, her voice bright. “Calling to set up a shopping date for the next game?”

Magnus dropped back against his chair, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. His connection to Alec would bring pain to all of the Lightwoods.

“No, Isabelle. We have to talk.”

 

****

 

Alec paced in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in his living room looking out over the river.

Izzy was on her way here with Magnus. In Alec’s car—that he usually only used on game days—so that they could enter his apartment building through the underground parking. So they wouldn’t be seen.

Because Sebastian Morgenstern was watching them.

Alec rubbed at his left hand—the numbness there gnawing at him— trying to piece together how things had shifted so cruelly so fast.

He and Magnus weren’t even _together_ and now….

The lock clicked on Alec’s door and Magnus was the first through. Alec crossed the room in wide, determined steps and enveloped Magnus into his arms. Magnus sighed, pressed his face into Alec’s neck and circled his arms around Alec’s back, hands fisting in Alec’s shirt as if Alec was the only thing holding him up.

He’d known he needed Magnus to hold him together, but he hadn’t realized Magnus might need him too.

Alec pressed his lips into Magnus’ hair. He wouldn’t let this man go because of a threat, no matter how real it was. He couldn’t.

“Hey,” he said to Izzy as she dropped her purse and his keys on the table by the door.

“Hey yourself,” she replied with a sad smile. She rested her hand on his back for a moment as she moved past them and into the living room.

Magnus’ hands relaxed, palms flattening on Alec’s back. Alec drew back and cradled Magnus’ jaw. “You okay?”

Magnus shook his head. “No.”

Magnus’ eyes were shiny, his jaw tensed.

Alec wished he had the power to draw every ounce of pain he saw written on Magnus’ face away. “I hate him for doing this to you. That he’s using me against you.”

“Me?” Magnus’ features darkened. He grabbed Alec around the wrists and took a step back. “Alexander. This is your career he’s putting at risk. This is the definition of forced closeting. It’s not on your terms and it’s not your fault. He’s using _me_ against _you_. If I wasn’t a part of this then he wouldn’t have nearly the same caliber of ammunition. This is _my_ fault.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Alec said, determined. “If I wasn’t hiding none of this would be happening. Neither of us has done anything wrong here.”

Magnus held his gaze for only a second, then he was frowning deeply, moving past Alec into the living room, his shoulders sagging.

“You’re right that neither of you has done anything wrong,” Izzy said, her arms crossed, heel digging into the tile floor. “But that doesn’t change that we have a major problem that we have to deal with now.”

Magnus nodded, his focus on the windows instead of either Alec or Izzy. “Where do we start?”

Izzy glanced at Alec then Magnus and back at him—silently asking Alec if he knew what was going on with Magnus. Alec just shook his head. There was too much that was wrong for him to pinpoint what was bothering Magnus the most.

Izzy straightened her shoulders. “Magnus already ran through the pictures for me on the way here so I have context for what was happening in them—not just what it looks like they show. From a PR standpoint, they’re damning. I won’t lie about that.”

Alec hadn’t seen the pictures yet but he knew what they implied. He could run through every encounter he’d had with Magnus—that had been public in any way—and know that his demeanor, and actions, had shifted considerably since they’d first met.

He looked to Magnus. “Did you already talk to the state attorney’s office about that first meeting?”

Magnus was at the windows now. One arm crossed around his chest, the other arm resting on the first as he ran his thumb over his rings. “I did. But Morgenstern knows we won’t go to them with this.” Magnus took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting and Alec could see the moment Magnus’ protective facade slammed into place. “My past is more damning than those pictures are.”

“Magnus,” Alec said softly. He knew that there was something from Magnus’ childhood that Sebastian had dredged up, but the pain it was causing Magnus right now was the only thing Alec cared about. “You don’t owe me any explanations. Your past is your past. I know the man you are now and that is the only thing that matters to me.”

Magnus finally looked up at him. “You don’t know the whole story.”

“I don’t need to,” Alec asserted.

Izzy sighed. “I will if I’m going to know what to plan for.”

Alec kept his gaze locked to Magnus. “If you don’t want me to hear this, then tell me. I’ll leave and you can talk to Izzy.”

“I’d like you to stay,” Magnus stated, as if he was completely detached. “So you’re fully informed about what I’ve dragged you into.”

Alec winced but nodded his agreement.

“It’s rather simple really,” Magnus started, and Alec knew immediately it wouldn’t be simple at all.

Alec tensed his hands, forcing himself not to work at that numb spot. His own wounds didn’t matter right now—only Magnus’ did.

Magnus stepped away from the windows and faced Alec and Izzy. “My conception was the product of a sexual assault and my step-father always resented me because I wasn’t his. He treated me…harshly and it wasn’t my mother’s place to question him. After a number of years, my mother couldn’t deal with any of… _that_ anymore and she hung herself.”

Alec’s knees went weak. His stomach dropping.

To anyone else Magnus may have appeared unemotional, but Alec saw the shaking of his fingers as Magnus balled his fist. “My stepfather blamed me for her death, of course, then tried to kill me. I was ten at the time.”

Izzy’s heels clacked as she tried to cross the room to him.

“Magnus—” Alec whispered, his voice cracking.

Magnus held up his hand, stopping both of them. “That’s merely the beginning. When the knife he tried to slit my throat with found its way into his belly instead—and he slipped into the river—I didn’t attempt to save him. They found his body two days later and I was taken to an orphanage where I lived for a number of years. Then I simply left one night and didn’t look back. All of the documents surrounding these circumstances were to be kept out of public record due to my status as a minor. I don’t know how Morgenstern tracked any of them down since I arrived in the United States under a different name. But”—Magnus smiled and it was all brittleness and pain—“I suppose that tells us what lengths he is willing to go to.”

Alec couldn’t take it anymore. He crossed the room toward Magnus slowly and Magnus looked away from him, his arms closing around his chest. As if he feared Alec was going to reject him. Or—Alec realized with a start—like Alec was going to hit him.

Alec stopped in his tracks. Magnus shined so brightly—lived honestly and with so much kindness—and Sebastian had made Magnus hurt. Made Magnus afraid. Alec was furious. Enraged. But that wasn’t the emotion Magnus needed to see painted on Alec’s face.

Alec spoke through the tightening of his throat. “That he would use that against you says more about him than you.”

Magnus closed his eyes and inhaled, his arms moving with the ragged breath. When Magnus spoke again, his voice betrayed how unsure he was. “I would have told you all of this on my own someday. When I was ready.”

“I know,” Alec replied immediately. He took another step toward Magnus and when Magnus didn’t flinch back he reached out. Magnus clasped onto his hand and Alec squeezed it. “Magnus, I still see _you_. I’m still so fucking grateful you came into my life.”

Magnus searched his face for only a heartbeat then he was tugging at Alec, pulling him in until Magnus had his arms around Alec’s waist. “Okay.”

Alec leaned down and placed a soft kiss to Magnus’ forehead.

When he looked to Magnus again, the sadness in Magnus’ eyes left Alec heartbroken.

Magnus’ shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. Then he spoke so only Alec could hear him. “I need for you to be sure.”

“I am,” Alec answered without hesitation. “I trust you. Nothing he says or does will change that.”

“He says it’s not personal,” Magnus said, drawing back and looking to Izzy to include her again. “But I have the feeling that he’ll release information merely for spite if we make any kind of move against him.”

Izzy frowned. “I agree.”

“And he knew about Lydia.”

Magnus said her name carefully—they’d never had a discussion about her or her role in Alec’s life—and Alec startled at the mention of her name.

“Shit. Lydia. She texted me about a week ago. Said there was something we needed to talk about. And I know she’s been talking to Jace, so I just assumed if it was something important she would’ve tried again—” Alec glanced between Magnus and Izzy guiltily. “I’ve been…busy.”

Izzy glared at him. “You may want to call her now, Alec.”

Magnus just squeezed his hand again, then let go.

Alec slipped his cell out of his pocket and hit the button to call Lydia, setting it on speakerphone.

“Hey, Lightwood!” Lydia said as she picked up. “Great game last night.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Thanks, Lydia, but there’s another reason I’m calling. You’re on speakerphone right now with me, Izzy, and Magnus Bane—my…agent.”

Magnus smiled shyly at that and Alec shrugged his shoulders.

Lydia took a deep breath. “I knew I should’ve tried to get ahold of you again.”

Alec looked between Izzy and Magnus. “What happened?”

“I took my personal laptop into work and couldn’t get it to connect to the wifi. IT discovered that someone had accessed all my files and messed around with my settings. According to the IT guy I talked to, it was some kind of virus from someone who wanted me to know they’d gotten in. I use that laptop to backup my phone so everything is accessible on there. I wouldn’t have really worried about it because I don’t keep sensitive information on my phone or my personal laptop, but then I realized there were my messages with you. And with Raj.”

Alec’s stomach dropped. “Shit.”

“What’s going on?” Lydia asked, concern lacing her tone.

“It’s not good.”

“I should’ve pressed for you to call me back, but Jace got injured and I knew you were focused on the games. I didn’t want to add any stress when it was probably just me being paranoid. I’m sorry, Alec.”

“I don’t think it would have mattered even if I’d called you back immediately,” Alec answered honestly.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing right now, Lydia,” Izzy said. “Contact me if anyone starts asking about Alec or if it seems like anyone is following you.”

Lydia was quiet for a moment. “This sounds…bad.”

“It is,” Magnus confirmed. “Lydia, we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting but it seems as if Alec trusts you.” Alec nodded to let Magnus know he did. “Someone is targeting Alec because of his visibility in the media right now. We haven’t decided how to move forward yet so we need you to keep quiet about this for now.”

“Anything,” Lydia answered. “Let me know how I can help. Alec, will I see you tomorrow?”

Alec pursed his lips. “Tomorrow?”

“The Gallant event.”

Alec’s eyes widened. With his focus on the game last night then everything today he’d forgotten about the launch event Gallant was holding. “My campaign is launching tomorrow.”

Magnus’ jaw ticked. “That’s why he chose today.”

Alec felt a new wave of panic opening in his chest. “Lydia, I’ll have to call you later.”

“Take care of yourself, Lightwood.”

“Bye.”

Alec clicked off the call and stared at Izzy and Magnus in disbelief.

Magnus was right. Sebastian had brought this shit to their doorstep now because Alec was soon going to be all over the media—and not just for hockey. Sebastian was either going to have his picture perfect closeted hockey star in front of all those cameras or he was going to burn Alec’s career to the ground in a very public way.

How the hell were they supposed to fight this?

Izzy was already in motion, sliding her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll start working on our crisis management plan and reaching out to the contacts I trust so we’re not blindsided by anything. If you’re okay with it, I’ll also start dropping hints of a league player who’s going to be the first to come out. We get ahead of this and even if you are forced out—tomorrow or in the next couple of weeks—then we can work that angle to our advantage.”

Alec inhaled deeply and nodded. “Okay.”

Izzy paused and leveled a steely gaze between Alec and Magnus. “For however long this takes, the two of you shouldn’t be anywhere near each other unless it’s explicitly a business situation.”

“You can’t be serious?” Alec protested.

Izzy’s features softened. “For now, _mi hermano_. I’m sorry. You have to trust me.”

“Fuck Sebastian Morgenstern,” Alec spat out. His anger taking hold. “I won’t do it. I won’t give in to him.”

“This is not solely your choice,” Magnus said calmly.

Alec faced Magnus in disbelief. “You think I should give in?”

Magnus crossed his arms. “What other choice do we have for now?”

“I want to be with you, Magnus!” Alec shouted. He needed Magnus to understand this. “Not hiding, not lying. With you!”

Magnus’ face twisted. “I’m not enough to put you and your entire career at risk, Alexander!”

Izzy stomped her foot once to get their attention. “Enough! Both of you. Sebastian Morgenstern is trying to fuck you both over and you are letting him do it if you turn against each other.”

Alec scrubbed his hands over his face. Izzy was right. Sebastian was the focus of his anger, not Magnus. If he and Magnus were going to find a way through this they had to do it together.

“I have to get to work on this now,” Izzy pressed. “We don’t have time to waste. I mean it, though. You two can’t be seen together until we get a better handle on this. Magnus, do you want me to give you a ride home?”

“Please, Magnus. Just…stay.” Alec knew he was perilously close to begging. “While we still can.”

Magnus tipped his chin up and spoke to Izzy. “I’ll call you later so we can strategize.”

“Make sure you’re not seen when you leave,” Izzy reminded them with quiet force, and shut the door behind her.

 

****

 

“Magnus,” Alec said as soon as they were alone, locking eyes with Magnus. Resolute. “You are worth the risk.”

Magnus took that in—tried to believe he was—and held out his hand. Alec closed the distance between them immediately. Magnus was still so…exposed from talking about his past—so vulnerable. He’d made Alec just as defenseless, and yet Alec still wanted him. Still trusted him.

“It’s hard for me to believe that I am, you have to understand that, Alexander. But I see the way you look at me and I listen to everything you say to me….” Magnus entwined his fingers with Alec’s and pulled him closer. “I know I said I could only be with someone who is out, but not like this.” He paused, then emphasized, “Not. Like. This. There’s a part of me that wants to say that maybe you and I just aren’t meant to be…. You’re hurting and I’m hurting and this is the last thing we both said we wanted for each other.”

Alec peered down at him, eyebrows stitching together. “We can’t give up—”

“Listen to me, Alexander. I don’t want you to give in to him. _I_ don’t want to give in either. But you have much more to lose than I do. We have to think about this logically. You and I not pursuing _more_ is the only conclusion right now—both of us logically know that.” Alec opened his mouth to speak and Magnus set his palm on Alec’s chest to quiet him. “But that doesn’t mean we stop fighting.”

Alec seemed to ease at that. He let go of Magnus’ hand and dug his fingers into Magnus’ waist. “How the hell did this happen? We’re not even together.”

Magnus tried to smile, but his sadness was so close to the surface. “Alexander. Look at us. We are together in every way except physically.”

Alec’s gaze flitted to Magnus’ lips. “You said that if we kissed there’s no going back—no uncrossing that line—and I know what you mean. I get it. But both of us are old enough to know that life isn’t contained like the rink. Those lines aren’t painted below a sheet of ice….”

Alec brushed Magnus’ hair back, let his fingers linger against Magnus’ skin. Magnus’ sadness began to dissipate under the warmth of Alec’s touch.

Alec sighed. “I know what I said about waiting and it made sense when we were the ones in control. But right now all that we’re in control of is what does and doesn’t happen between us…. And how far we choose to go past that line.”

While they were here, they still had a choice for _each other_.

When Magnus walked out Alec’s door today, that choice would be ripped away from them.

Magnus slid his hand up Alec’s chest and circled his palm around Alec’s neck, seeking a connection. Safety in the midst of risk. “I don’t think either of us wants to go back.”

“Magnus”—Alec licked his lips—“we’re talking ourselves into something that will only make it worse for both of us.”

Magnus knew where this was headed and, “I know and I don’t care.” He teased at the jagged edges of hair at Alec’s nape and Alec closed his eyes. “Everyone thinks we’ve already had sex,” Magnus added with a teasing lilt. “So what’s one kiss?”

“Just one time,” Alec said. As if he was trying to convince himself. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, locking on to Magnus’. “I trust you to hold on to the only piece of me that feels…real right now. I need you to believe that we can find a way through this, because I don’t know if I can.”

Magnus’ breath caught in his chest. “Alexander, you are breaking my heart.”

“I don’t want to say good, but—good. Because I’m….” Alec shook his head. “I’m already there.”

Magnus put his other hand over Alec’s heart. “Alexander—”

“I can’t take this anymore.”

Alec’s lips smashed against his, and Magnus was lost to the urgent press of Alec’s mouth—exploring, learning how they fit, tasting, breathing and moving together. Magnus ran his fingers to the back of Alec’s head, holding him in place. The fingers of his other hand curled under the neckline of Alec’s t-shirt, Alec’s heartbeat thundering under his fingertips.

Alec slid his hand on Magnus’ lower back, fitting them tightly together, and the first real press of Alec’s body along his sent shivers down Magnus’ spine. Magnus tilted his head, parting his lips farther for Alec—only Alec—and Alec moaned.

Magnus couldn’t get close enough.

The first touch of Alec’s tongue to his was slow, deliberate. Alec teasing at his tongue, lips and teeth, languid swipes that became heated in one heartbeat and Magnus opened completely for him, overtaken by the force of both of their need. He deepened the kiss, ripping another moan from Alec’s throat that lit every nerve in Magnus’ body.

Alec’s beard scratched at Magnus’ face, left a heated trail of oversensitive skin in its wake. Magnus sucked Alec’s bottom lip between his teeth then Alec’s hands were under his shirt, fingers dipping below Magnus’ waistband as Alec thrust his hardening cock against Magnus’.

This was one kiss. There would be more. Magnus _had_ to believe there would be more. And if they didn’t stop now then there would be no notions of being apart from Alec _at all_ ….

But Magnus had never kissed anyone like this before and he never wanted it to end.

Magnus flattened his palm on Alec’s chest, nipping at Alec’s lips, sweeping his tongue into Alec’s mouth slowly until Alec was chasing after him for more. Magnus was rolling his hips against Alec’s, and if he didn’t stop now then this was going to end with Alec inside him.

He drew back and fought to catch his breath. “We have to stop.”

Alec ran his cheek against Magnus’ and nipped at Magnus’ earlobe. “I know.” Alec didn’t let him go, though. “Fuck. I want more, Magnus. I want all of you—everything you’re willing to give me. I want to tell everyone I’m with _you_ ….” Alec trailed a line of kisses down Magnus’ jaw before he drew back. “But I know we can’t.”

Magnus glanced at Alec’s kiss-swollen lips, felt Alec’s strong hands holding him tight, and knew for sure that even if they hadn’t crossed this line there was no going back for either of them.

“Not yet,” Magnus reminded Alec, because one of them had to hold on to hope.

“Not yet,” Alec repeated.

Magnus dragged Alec down to him and pressed a soft kiss to Alec’s lips. Lingering for only a second before he tore himself away. Alec’s hands dropped from Magnus’ waist and he didn’t move as Magnus went for the door.

“Goodbye, Magnus,” Alec said softly.

Magnus opened the door and turned to face Alec. “Not goodbye, Alexander. I’ll see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty sure you all know where to come to yell at me now, but just in case, i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alec broods. magnus drowns in woe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 79 of the shadowhuntes hiatus. last night i was thinking about gif sets i haven't seen yet, and that it would be cool to see one with all of the beautiful props/set designs created for the show that are ruined/destroyed in the season (ie raphael's jackets, simon's room) then realized _holy shit_ i've gotten to THAT point in my desperation for more shadowhunters. fuck. how much longer do we have?????
> 
>  
> 
> everyone say hello to angst and welcome it into our fandom family! it's going to be staying with us for a bit, but there will still be smiles and laughs, i promise.
> 
> i thought this would be around 10k. it's 15k. you have @sarcasticlightwood and @allofthefanfic to thank for that (all the love, ladies!!)

As the door closed behind Magnus, the reality of what had just happened hit Alec full force.

He’d kissed Magnus.

The scent of Magnus’ cologne lingered in the air. He tasted Magnus on his lips. Felt the warmth of Magnus’ skin on his fingertips. Saw his reflection in the hallway mirror—hair mussed, color high on his cheeks, the collar of his shirt stretched by Magnus’ hands.

And his heart was beating out of control.

He had an intimate knowledge of what Magnus’ body felt like pressed against his— _finally_ —and he should’ve been reveling in that. Planning a first date, or anticipating the next kiss….

But it could be weeks, possibly months, before any of that happened.

Alec sank down, bracing his elbows on his knees.

It was just one kiss.

So why did it feel like so much more?

He laced his fingers behind his head—where Magnus’ hands had just been, drawing him close—and rocked forward as he clamped his eyes shut.

They’d made the choice to cross this line, even though both of them had known it would make things worse. But he couldn’t have known that his heart would _actually_ ache—a tangible pressure that lanced through his chest, tightening his lungs.

It was like there was a vice around his chest, tightening every time he tried to inhale. Alec gasped for air.

Why couldn’t he _breathe_?

 _Not yet_ , he tried to remind himself. They both wanted to be together, but couldn’t. _Not yet_. But it was so hard to hold on to hope when he was unraveling more each second.

They weren’t even together, and maybe—as Magnus had said—maybe they weren’t meant to be. Everything had finally come together for them _and_ fallen apart in less than forty-eight hours.

Alec balled his hands into fists—dug his fingernails into his palm—physically trying to hold himself together.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Anytime anything had happened in his life lately—good or bad—Magnus was the first person he’d contacted. But now…. He didn’t know if he could call. Or Facetime. Or even text.

He couldn’t see Magnus unless it was explicitly a business situation.

And the only person he wanted—needed—right now was Magnus.

But he wasn’t _allowed_ to be with him.

This wasn’t just backwards, this wasn’t how relationships were supposed to start at all. They were ending and they hadn’t even really begun.

Alec ground his teeth together and surged to his feet. “Fuck!”

If he’d been at the gym he would’ve taken his anger out on a punching bag. Left his hands untaped so he could feel the sting of each hit. He would’ve fed each strike with the aggression prickling under his skin, until his knuckles began to split.

He shook his hands out and started to pace. Tried to breathe.

“Not yet,” he repeated—out loud this time.

He grasped on to those two simple words, saying them over and over again. He forced himself to enunciate each syllable until the words weren’t stuttered out between staccato breaths.

His shoulders began to ease, and his steps slowed as he neared the windows. He laid his forehead on the cool glass and was finally able to suck in a full inhale.

He was standing where Magnus had been less than an hour ago. Magnus had been so closed off then. In pain. Yet Alec had been able to hold him, reassure him. Even coax a smile out of him. Then Alec had kissed him….

He pushed away from the glass and ran his fingers through his hair.

And no. He didn’t want to go back to the way it had been before that kiss. Even if there was a physical ache in his chest when he thought about Magnus.

This hurt because Magnus _mattered_.

“Get your shit together, Lightwood.”

He cringed at the weakness in his voice.

None of this was fair.

But this was his reality—his life—and if he didn’t hold himself together then he wouldn’t have the strength to fight.

“I’ll see him soon,” he said this time. He smoothed his hand over his beard, fingers grazing his lips as he let out an uneasy laugh. “Shit. And I need to get out of this apartment and stop talking to myself.”

He went for the bedroom, changing into his running gear, shrugging on a hoodie, and pulling a baseball cap low over his eyes.

He needed to move. It didn’t matter where he ended up—but he couldn’t be trapped behind walls right now. He needed room to breathe.

When Alec exited his building the sun was on an arc towards the western horizon, dropping lower as each minute passed, casting the street in shadows as it slid behind skyscrapers.

Alec put his headphones on, started up one of his playlists, and began to run. He set a steady pace that had his blood thrumming and warmth spreading through his muscles within minutes, but his head wasn’t getting any clearer.

He propelled himself forward faster, trying to focus on the music and the rhythm of his feet, but he couldn’t shake the fear that was skittering through his veins.

He didn’t know if he was being followed now. If he was being watched. Gramercy had always felt like a safe place to Alec—a place to call home when the house he’d grown up in was no longer open to him—but the streets tonight were intimidating. He was suspicious of every person he passed. Watchful when these streets had been one place he could be at rest—himself. Sebastian had taken away the security of one of Alec’s safe spaces. Threatened his family. Torn he and Magnus apart because it suited his agenda.

Exposed Magnus’ past maliciously. Cruelly.

And he’d done it all for money.

Because, in this world, money had more value than life.

Sebastian’s threats carried weight because a wealthy man’s words would be received with more importance than the words of a man people wanted to look down on. There were people who feared someone like Alec because he was different, yet Alec was the one who had reason to be scared.

Alec swiped the sweat from above his lip and looked around him, realizing his unconscious search for safety had led him to the High Line—a section of elevated track that had been turned into a walkway cutting through Manhattan. A place that was always calming for him. He jogged up the steps and turned south.

Even though it was a Friday night, the walkway was packed. Tourists with cameras, families with young kids. Couples with hands entwined or arms wrapped around each other. Usually this was a place where Alec came to soak in the vibrancy of New York. A place where he could feel the city teaming with life and possibility. Tonight, though, he felt set apart from the liveliness. Excluded.

He dropped onto one of the wood lounges and draped his arms over his knees, catching his breath.

The warmth of the sun was fading with the sunset. Alec stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched as a group of people moved through the crowd. Their arms were loaded with telescopes that they set to work spacing out on the walkway. He’d forgotten it was that time of year—Fridays were stargazing night on the High Line once the seasons changed.

Stars were never very visible in the city, but Alec remembered lying on the lawn of his house, holding Max on his lap and Izzy pressed against his side. Max’s chubby fingers wrapped around his. Izzy’s hair tickling at his cheek. Those were good times. Memories that made him smile.

He had to wonder if Magnus had any happy memories like that from Indonesia. Alec hoped he did.

His playlist was still running and the song blasting in his ears was too raucous—too intrusive—so Alec took the phone out of his armband and clicked off the music. When he removed his headphones the familiar sounds of traffic, voices, and laughter filled his ears.

He stretched out his legs and relaxed back.

Now that he had his phone in his hands, all he wanted to do was reach out to Magnus. But he had no idea what to say.

He opened their thread—scrolling through the messages until he got back to the beginning—rereading them all. From the terse business texts in that first week, to the night Magnus had verified that they were indeed going to make Izzy believe they hated each other for a bit longer. The first picture Magnus had ever sent Alec—a billboard near Magnus’ office with Alec’s scowling face on a fragrance ad. A picture taken at the photo shoot where they’d first met. And Magnus’ wry commentary below that pic— _I’m an athlete. Adore me. Fear me. Smell like me._

Alec smiled and continued scrolling.

Magnus with his family.

Magnus making him laugh.

Magnus flirting with him.

Magnus checking in—in his own verbose, roundabout way—to make sure Alec was okay….

It was all there for him to see.

He’d never intended to like Magnus at all. Never thought they could become friends. Never imagined that a mere hint of skin or an oversized ratty sweatshirt would make turn him into a stuttering mess.

Never hoped he’d ever find someone who he was willing to risk it all for.

But all the proof he needed was _right in front of him_.

Fuck. He was so sunk.

He was falling in love with Magnus.

Alec’s hands were shaking, fingers hovering above the keyboard, when someone dropped onto the chair next to him.

“Going incognito tonight?”

Alec inhaled sharply and exited out of his messages, clicking his screen off without sending anything. He had no idea what to say to the one person he needed to talk to.

He turned to Max, unsurprised to find him here. “Apparently not very well.”

Max was watching a kid across from them run his fingers through the tall grass. “Izzy called me. I figured I’d find you here.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Yes.” Max gave a half-smile. “Although I did check your apartment and the bar first.”

Alec pocketed his cell again. “Drinking alone is rarely a good idea.”

“So you’re just sitting here brooding, huh?”

“I’m not brooding.”

“Right. I know that slouching and frowning are all part of your overall aesthetic, but what about the hickey on your neck?”

Alec pressed his fingertips to his skin. He didn’t remember Magnus kissing his neck, but the last few hours were an emotional blur. “Shit, really?”

“No. But now I know what you’ve been up to tonight.”

Alec waited for Max to tack on an _And who you’ve been_ up _for_ …. When Max didn’t say anything else, Alec said, “What? No innuendo there?”

Max shook his head, his jaw going tight. “If Izzy told me even half of what’s going on—and you really did kiss him tonight—then nah, Alec. I think you’ve had enough bullshit thrown at you today.”

Alec slumped into his chair. If Max was getting serious than things really were bad. He sighed and idly watched the couple across from him. They leaned into each other for a passionate kiss—as if they were the only two people on the crowded walkway. Alec licked his lips and swore he could still feel the warmth of Magnus’ mouth on his.

“I want to be able to do this with him,” he said to Max. Or maybe more to himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max tilt his head in silent question.

“I mean…. Walk with him. Hold his hand. Kiss him if I want. _When_ I want.” He curled his legs up, bracing himself against the chill that settled in with the sun dipping below the horizon. “I don’t want to be _afraid_ to live my life.”

Max cracked the knuckles of his right hand one at a time with his thumb, hand clenching and unclenching. His lips were pursed, as if he was holding back….

Max railed when he was angry. Yelled at the top of his lungs and used his hands to accentuate every way-too-intelligent point he had. He never held back.

This was a Max that was furious, though, and Alec had never seen him so deathly calm.

“Max—”

Max held up his hand, stopping Alec. “I’m really fucking angry right now and none of that is directed at you. None of it.” Max met his eyes and the only thing there was love and acceptance—like always. “Okay?”

Alec felt tears gathering in his eyes. He couldn’t say anything without breaking down, so he nodded.

Max shifted, setting his feet on the ground and facing Alec. He scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked half-broken. Half forged in fire. “I may not know a lot when it comes to relationships, big brother, but I know fear.”

Alec inhaled a stuttering breath.

Max shook his head slowly, brow furrowing. “It never really goes away—it just changes as we change. We fear because we have something to lose. Or we fear because we’ve already lost something, and we don’t want to go through that pain again. I don’t know which is the bigger fear for you—what that dickface is doing to you, or losing someone again that you saw a future with.”

Alec winced. “He’s not Raj.”

“And you’re not the same person you were back then,” Max agreed. “You’re stronger than you were then. _Happier_. Fuck, Alec. I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re with Magnus.”

Alec swiped at his eyes, a half-smile on his lips.

“You’re never going to get rid of all your fear, Alec, but you have to decide how much of your life it dictates.”

Alec grimaced. “Too much right now.”

“Someday you’ll be able to do all of this.” Max gestured at the telescopes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Soon, you’ll be able to come to stargazing night on the High Line and study Magnus’ celestial body while he swoons at the constellations in your eyes.”

Alec had no choice. He had to chuckle.

Max gripped Alec’s shoulder. “And you don’t have to go through this tough stuff alone, okay? Call me. Call Izzy. Call Clary. Hell, have Simon take you on a zamboni ride. We’re your family and we love every brooding inch of you.”

“Okay,” Alec allowed with a quiet laugh.

Max knocked a closed fist against Alec’s chair. “You know what would do you a lot of good right now?”

Alec lifted an eyebrow. “Sebastian Morgenstern’s obituary?”

“That would help,” Max said with all seriousness. Then he tipped his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But I was thinking a gigantic glass of wine and The Notebook.”

Alec had to fight to hold a grin back. “There is no good time for that. Ever.”

Max gave a full-on smirk this time. “We’ll see about that.”

 

****

 

Magnus stumbled through his apartment door.

He had called Izzy after leaving Alec’s apartment—ensuring there was nothing else he could do tonight—then dragged Ragnor and Catarina out to dinner with him. He hadn’t intended to get mind-numbingly drunk, but well…. There were so many things he didn’t want to think about, and now here he was. Tottering on one foot, his keys clattering to the floor as he flipped on the lights in his lonely, empty apartment.

Chairman meowed.

“Empty ‘cept for you,” Magnus reassured his cat.

Chairman flicked his tail, seemingly satisfied.

Magnus nodded—what he had to assume was—very sagely. At least there was one being on this planet that he hadn’t disappointed tonight. Then he promptly tripped over his cat, sending Chairman howling into the bedroom as Magnus fought not to sprawl face first onto his floor.

“Imma be okay,” he reassured no one, since even his cat had abandoned him.

There was the vague knowledge somewhere in the reasoning center of his brain that getting drunk had been a bad idea—one he would most certainly regret in the morning—but Magnus had had enough of logic today for an entire lifetime.

“Fuck logic!” he seethed and went to slam the door shut, but then it was bouncing back, hitting him in the shoulder and sending him flailing and struggling to stay on his feet. Again.

Ragnor appeared in the door, rubbing at his nose. “Really, Magnus?”

Magnus stitched his eyebrows together in confusion and lifted a finger to protest Ragnor’s unannounced presence, but…

Oh, yes. Now he remembered.

Ragnor had insisted on following him home to make sure he didn’t end up wandering into a karaoke bar and deafening a room full of innocent people.

“What did he mumble?” Catarina said, closing the door quietly behind her.

Ah. And apparently Catarina had come along as well.

“You’re so kind,” he said to Catarina, pointing a wobbly finger at the two Catarinas in front of him. “Much too kind to be friends with the likes of him.”

“And the hits keep coming,” Ragnor quipped.

Magnus smiled. “You deserve me.” Just as suddenly, his heart was clenching painfully. “Alexander, however, does not.”

“We went over this already,” Catarina reminded him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He vaguely remembered agreeing to acknowledge his own self-worth, but he’d already been well on his way to drunk at the time. Catarina had used his weakened state to coerce him into seeing his own value. It was a criminal act of kindness. Magnus pondered that for a moment. That was a thing, right?

Alec would know.

Magnus rifled through his pockets and brought out his phone to text Alec.

“No, Magnus,” Ragnor chided him. “Absolutely not.”

Magnus held tight to his phone and dodged away from Ragnor, sashaying toward the island in the kitchen with utmost grace.

“Magnus, you can’t even walk,” Ragnor insisted. “You’re drunk.”

“Not,” Magnus protested eloquently and ran into the granite corner. He winced. He couldn’t recall ordering such abrupt—frankly, rude—edges on his countertops.

Ragnor remained on the other side of the island, his hand outstretched. “Hand me your mobile.”

Magnus scowled and slunk down behind the counter, opening up drawers and cupboards pretending to hide his phone away. The feat of opening drawers with one hand—and sliding his cell back into his pocket with the other—was surprisingly difficult. He fumbled for a moment longer, positive that he had been caught. But there was only blessed silence coming from the peanut gallery.

He stood back up, glared daggers at Ragnor and slinked—slunk? slinkaged?—his way into the living room, turning his back on his friends.

“What did you do with your phone?” Catarina asked him, all kindness and warmth. She was much too good to him, but not good enough for him to relinquish his sole connection to Alexander.

Magnus pouted. “I’m not telling either of you.”

“Magnus!” Ragnor boomed. “Where’s your phone?”

“I dunno,” he lied.

Or slurred. Or maybe slur-lied. Slurried.

He was slurrying a surly Ragnor.

Magnus giggled and kept his back to Ragnor, jabbing at screen of his cell. What the hell was his passcode again? Whatever it was, he should change it to A-L-E-X-A-N-D-E-R. Magnus frowned at the screen, the buttons blurring into a whitish blob. Or perhaps he could change it to A-L-E-C, because the voluminousness of his bearded, angelic goalie’s name seemed slightly overwhelming right now. He had to cross his eyes for there only to be two sets of letters and numbers, or maybe it was three—

Wait. What was he doing again?

Right. Alexander.

Magnus hunched over his screen, bringing it closer to his face, as the floor swayed beneath his feet.

“Magnus,” Ragnor growled and lunged. “Give me your phone.”

Magnus twirled away from him and Ragnor darted around him with ease—really, how was Ragnor so spry for his advanced age?—swiping at Magnus’ hands and missing. But Magnus hadn’t taken into account the unsteadiness of the floor as he attempted to escape Ragnor’s clutches, and he pitched to the side, landing on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

Magnus _whomped_ out a breath of surprise at this new, undignified position, but felt his fingers still circled around his phone.

Magnus held his cell up in triumph. “Aha! You’ll never best me!”

Catarina floated past him, plucking the phone out his hands. “Friends don’t let friends drunk text.”

“Friends don’t let friends get blurringly drunk to drown their misery,” he pointed out from his position on the floor. It was surprisingly comfortable here. He may never move again.

Catarina scoffed. “You say that as if you weren’t the one finishing off our drinks for us.”

“Exactly how drunk are you, Magnus?” Ragnor asked. “Will there be dancing?”

“I haven’t drank—drunk? drunken?”—he twirled his hands through the air, momentarily hypnotized by the shininess of his rings—“Regardless. I haven’t imbibed nearly enough for that.”

“That’s disappointing,” Ragnor said in a very disappointed tone. Enough that Magnus briefly considered attempting a salsa step or two just to see Ragnor’s glower turn to a grin.

But then there was the floor….

It was cool and soothing and flat.

Ragnor would just have to remain perpetually disappointed.

“I’m impressed he can say imbibed. He can’t even correctly conjugate the verb to drink,” Catarina said.

Magnus held up his hand. “I need water. To drunken.”

Catarina appeared over him, nodding her head. “I think that’s a good idea.”

A moment later Catarina had returned with a glass in one hand and the other outstretched for him—inviting him to abandon the soothing floor. Magnus didn’t deserve the surety of this wonderful floor either, so he allowed her to pull him to a semi-standing position then promptly dropped onto the couch when his head began to spin. She pressed the glass into his hands and Magnus took a deep swig.

The water didn’t taste nearly as exciting as the wine at dinner. Or the martinis. Or the scotch.

But to be fair, even those drinks had tasted like dust tonight.

Everything tasted like dust now that he’d tasted Alexander.

He patted his pocket with his free hand, seeking out his cell. He needed to text Alec.

Then he remembered his one lifeline had been stolen from him so he didn’t make a complete ass of himself.

Magnus barked out a laugh.

It was much too late for that. He was an ass for Alexander Lightwood.

All-in for Alec’s ass.

He glared at his best friends. “Give me my phone back.”

“No,” Catarina and Ragnor said in unison.

Magnus scrunched up his face in frustration. “Fine. I don’t need it anyway. I don’t do relationships, so if I can’t fuck him then what’s the point?”

Catarina shook her head. “Now you’re just saying things that you’re going to regret in the morning.”

There was no need to wait for the morning—he’d already flung himself into a pit of regret and woe.

He needed his phone so he could text Alec that he was sorry for that remark. Alec would be bewildered, but Magnus liked it when Alec squinted one eye dubiously.

Alec was so _handsome_.

“I’m regretting this entire night,” Ragnor said, rudely interrupting Magnus’ Alec-based reverie.

His countertops and Ragnor were both rude.

“Only tonight?” Magnus lamented. If he couldn’t text Alec to apologize for something Alec would never know he’d said, he could at the very least torment Ragnor. “I haven’t been trying hard enough.”

Ragnor scoffed and threw something onto the coffee table as he took a seat on one of the barstools.

A manila envelope.

Magnus took another drink of the water, but he was much more sober all of a sudden. Magnus leaned forward and picked up the envelope, sliding it open and dropping Sebastian Morgenstern’s pictures onto the table.

Catarina was immediately at his side. “I don’t think this is what you need right now.”

Magnus didn’t reply. He couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures.

It didn’t matter that every one of these images could be explained away. The way Alec looked at him…. Magnus was intimately aware of how piercing Alec’s gaze could be when he looked at Magnus. But Magnus didn’t know he was just as obvious when he had his eyes on Alec.

Magnus picked up the photo from the night he and Alec had had dinner with Alec’s family. He and Alec weren’t even looking at each other, but Alec was leaned back smiling and Magnus was laughing at something, his arm slung across the back of the bench, fingertips grazing Alec’s shoulder….

“I kissed him,” Magnus said quietly. “And now I don’t know when I’ll be able to do that again. That kiss— I’ve never…. Alexander—” A chill passed over his skin. “I love the way his name makes me feel when I say it.”

Ragnor sighed. “It’s too late.”

Catarina nodded. “I know.”

Magnus glanced between them. “For what?” he challenged.

“Magnus,” Ragnor said in his well-practiced _give me fucking break_ tone.

“Ragnor?”

Ragnor arched an eyebrow, and Magnus remembered….

_For fuck’s sake you’re going to fall in love with him._

Magnus gripped the photo tighter. “No. I can’t be falling in love with him.”

Ragnor heaved a world-weary sigh and swiveled to face Magnus completely. “I know you’re frightened of falling in love again—after what Camille did to you. But from everything you’ve told us…. Alec isn’t Camille.”

Magnus was seething in an instant. “Never utter their names in the same sentence together.”

“Magnus,” Ragnor warned.

“Ragnor,” Magnus rebutted.

Ragnor glared at him.

Magnus rolled his eyes and slumped into the couch.

Ragnor smiled victoriously. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

“I love you and your unfashionable weakness for an all-green wardrobe, my sweet pea.”

Ragnor glanced at his olive shirt and then to Catarina. “He’s telling me he loves me.”

Catarina pulled the picture out of Magnus’ hands. “Time to get you to bed, Magnus.”

Magnus allowed Catarina to pull him up and Magnus stumbled forward, wrapping Ragnor into a hug. “I do love you.”

Ragnor patted his back. “I know, my dear friend. Now go to bed.”

Catarina slid an arm around his waist and Magnus leaned into her as she led him into the bedroom. He face-planted into the bed and heard Catarina moving around, then his shoes were being removed and the bed was dipping down next to him.

Magnus lifted his head enough to look at her. “My sheets smell like him, Cat. But less than they did last night. And tomorrow night….”

She lifted his hands and removed his rings and bracelets, setting them on the nightstand. “You never know what tomorrow brings.”

His meeting with Imogen Herondale. The Gallant event. The specter of another visit from Satan himself—Alec had beaten the Devils only to be confronted by a much worse demon. Magnus knew exactly what tomorrow held. “I don’t hold out much hope. But you’re the only one I can tell that to.”

She smoothed the hair off his forehead and laid her palm on his cheek. “You do, Magnus. Or you would’ve written him off already. You walk away without looking back when the end goal isn’t worth it.”

Magnus sighed. “He’s worth everything.”

“Then hold on to that hope.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, Magnus.”

“Goodnight, my dearest.”

Magnus stuffed his face in the pillow, clutching it tight, and fell asleep remembering what it had been like to hold Alec in his arms.

 

****

 

Alec woke up to the acrid scent of smoke in his nose.

He sat straight up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, stumbling into the kitchen still half-asleep. “What the hell?”

Max paused from waving away smoke and looked to Alec. “I made the mistake of asking Izzy to watch the bacon while I pissed.”

“You told me to _watch_ it,” Izzy protested from her seat at the kitchen table. “Not that it needed to be flipped!”

Max didn’t have his prosthetic on yet—like most mornings—and he had a hip leaned against the counter, balancing, as he clanked the tongs in his hand together and pointed them at her. “Watching means flipping if needed.”

“Not my fault that my presence makes everything heat up,” Izzy said with a sly smile.

Max rolled his eyes. “I know you’re too hot, sis—”

In perfect unison Izzy and Alec both said, “Hot damn.”

Izzy grinned and air high fived Alec from across the room.

“Jesus give me patience,” Max muttered. “No police or firemen, okay? At least you didn’t destroy my quiche.”

Alec chuckled. “Give me the tongs. I’ll finish up breakfast. Go sit down, Max.”

Max used the counter and the table to propel himself forward and dropped into the chair next to Izzy, kicking his leg up on the seat across from him.

Alec set aside the burned bacon and put fresh pieces in the pan. “You know I love you, Iz, but you’re never over at my place this early. So what’s up?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night,” she said, taking a gulp of coffee. “Guessing you didn’t either.”

He had slept, but it had been fitful. “How are things looking?”

“We have a solid plan in place for every possibly scenario,” she said with a confidence that eased Alec’s mind a fraction. “I’ve written up a few draft statements in case we need to release something quick. Check your email when you get a chance and let me know if you have any major changes.”

“I’m sure they’re perfect,” Alec dismissed. Izzy eyed him. “Fine. I’ll review them after breakfast.”

“I won’t be at the venue tonight,” Izzy continued. “I need to be in the office in case anything does go down. I’m sending one of my colleagues to be on-site with you. She’ll have a direct line to me.”

“And I’ve got one of my finals tonight,” Max added. “So I won’t be there either. Sorry.”

“School is way more important,” Alec insisted. “Lydia will be there with me, don’t worry.”

Izzy stood, refilled her coffee cup and poured one for Alec. She leaned against the counter. “Lydia is up to speed too.”

Alec jolted at that news. “You told her everything already?”

“Look, I know she’s your friend and not a real girlfriend—and that helps this whole process immensely—but she needs to be prepared too. She can’t go into tonight without knowing exactly what’s going on behind the scenes. That she’s agreeing to go despite the potential knock to her image is something _you_ should be thanking her for.”

“Shit. Outing me means that she’ll start to be questioned.” He owed her fourteenth century precious gems, not just thanks.

“Exactly.”

Alec took a sip of his coffee and kept his focus on flipping the bacon instead of meeting his sister’s too-perceptive eyes. “Have you, uh, talked to Magnus?”

“I did last night.” In his peripheral vision he could see her staring at him intently. “Haven’t you?”

“Not since he left.”

“Alec.” She sounded exasperated. “When I said you can’t be seen together I didn’t mean you have to cut off all communication. You can still call and text him.”

“I don’t know what I’d say.” He shrugged.

“How about _hi_ or _good morning_? I know yesterday was tough, but the two of you need each other right now. The circumstances around you are fucking insane, but it’s not like anything has really changed between the two of you.”

Alec glanced at the table and Max gave an almost imperceptible shaking of his head. He hadn’t told Izzy.

He finally met Izzy’s eyes. “I kissed him.”

Her brow furrowed. “So? You’ve been doing that for weeks now.”

“Last night…. After you left…. That was the first time.”

Izzy’s features fell. “Oh, Alec. I just assumed since you’d spent the night at his place—”

Alec cut her off. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Izzy gripped his bicep and went back to her seat next to Max.

Steadfast on not saying anything more, Alec went back to cooking. He took the bacon out of the pan and opened the oven. He cut out three pieces from the veggie quiche and continued setting up plates.

Izzy hissed something in a whisper to Max and jabbed a finger at the screen, which Max replied with a succinct _shut up_.

Alec got out forks and napkins and picked up two of the plates. “What you are you two fighting about?”

Max closed his laptop. “The usual.”

Alec set the plates down in front of his siblings. “Correcting your grammar in an essay?”

Max laughed. “Sisters can be so annoying.”

“Just for that, I’m taking all your bacon.” Izzy swiped a piece off his plate and took a massive bite.

Alec grabbed his plate and joined them, the bickering between Max and Izzy reaching cacophonous levels.

Alec smiled.

He wished Magnus could be here with them.

 

****

 

Magnus blinked his eyes open to an uncomfortable dryness. His throat was scratchy and he’d definitely need to increase his water intake to combat the dull ache in his temple, but otherwise he was fine—which made him immediately annoyed. He hadn’t been intending to get drunk last night, but if one was really going to wallow in misery than a morning hangover was requisite.

He made his way to the bathroom and did a cursory cleaning up, then trudged into the kitchen throwing the freezer door open, and grabbing the ice cream. If he wasn’t going to be hungover, he could still properly wallow. He grabbed a spoon from the utensil drawer and popped the lid off the container. Alec’s sweatshirt was still draped over the back of one of the counter stools and Magnus took the seat next to it, digging out a massive spoonful of ice cream. At his feet, Chairman was staring up at him accusingly.

“Ice cream is a legitimate first meal of the day,” he defended. Chairman, unimpressed with this argument, continued to stare at him. “It’s cinnamon bun ice cream—hence breakfast. The breakfast of champions.”

His cat’s whiskers dropped in a decisive frown.

“Very well. The breakfast of heartbroken champions.”

Chairman nudged up against the empty stool next to Magnus, sending Alec’s sweatshirt cascading to the floor, then snuggled into a ball on the fabric, cocooning himself in the folds.

Magnus couldn’t even protest. If he were small enough he would’ve joined his cat on the floor. He dug his spoon into the container in a very wallowing manner. “I miss him too.”

 

****

 

Alec picked up his cell and opened his thread with Magnus.

It had been over twenty-four hours since Magnus’ last text to him— _I’m on my way_

Nothing since then.

And Alec still didn’t know what to say.

The possibility for _good morning_ had swiftly turned into _good afternoon_ as Alec slogged through a team meeting, practice, and another team meeting to watch tape of the Penguins—their second round opponents. The more time that passed, the more unsure Alec became.

He hadn’t reached out to Magnus, but Magnus hadn’t tried to get ahold of him either. And they still hadn’t really discussed what to do about Sebastian Morgenstern…. But his first message to Magnus after that kiss couldn’t be business.

Before he took an endless amount of time to overthink it, Alec took a deep breath, typed out a text, and hit send.

 

****

 

Magnus broke Imogen’s piercing gaze and glanced at his phone.

He had to fight to keep his composure when Alec’s name popped up on his screen, and below that….

_Hey :)_

He’d avoided reaching out to Alec because he hadn’t wanted Alec to feel like he was under any pressure. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting—hoping that Alec hadn’t regretted that kiss. And now….

Magnus was holding back from grinning like the lovesick fool he apparently was.

How did one word have the power to devastate him so completely and yet build him up even stronger than before? That one word was an ode. An epic novel. Magnus could remember every time Alec had greeted him with that same simple opening—a shy smile on his face.

A mere upturn of Alec’s mouth—let alone his generous lips actually forming words—was enough to send Magnus to knees, begging for Alec to reveal the secrets of the universe to him one word and one look at a time.

He tapped the screen to reply. _Good afternoon, beautiful. In a meeting but I’ll see you tonight_

Alec’s reply was immediate, _K :)_

Imogen cleared her throat. “Important business?”

The _most_ important kind.

“A good agent is always in demand,” he said instead. He set his phone on silent and refocused on Imogen. “As I was saying, I have a trip planned to Dallas and LA this week to meet with two prospects and entertain some important contacts. Tessa signed the contract for her new show as well.”

“Any other progress?” Imogen wasn’t frowning as she scribbled in a gold-leafed notebook. Magnus considered that alone a success.

“Jace Wayland came to see me—he wants me to take him on as a client. I’ve been reviewing his current agency agreement. He’s in a place where he could end the agreement without repercussions, but we could offer a token percentage of Jace’s next contract in order to facilitate a clean transition. After those poaching lawsuits with that agency in California, I’m sure you want to avoid legal battles as much as I do.”

Imogen nodded. “What amount?”

“Half of one percent on his next contract with the Angels, but nothing new we book for him. He’s going to be worth millions to us.”

“See how the conversation goes. You have my approval to offer that if needed.” Imogen set down her pen and leveled him with a pointed stare. “What else?”

She knew him too well by now.

Magnus forced himself not to adjust his position as he said, “We also need to discuss Alec Lightwood.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Do we?”

“You already know about the first meeting where Sebastian Morgenstern attempted to woo Alec back to Morgenstern & Morgenstern with a hefty check.”

Imogen nodded. “And Alec turned him down, yes.”

“Morgenstern didn’t accept Alec’s answer and has since done some nefarious, and likely illegal, undercover work.” Magnus picked up the manila envelope on the floor next to him and handed it over to Imogen. “You know I refuse to out anyone, but Alec had already approved me having a discussion with you about a rebranding and gradual coming out process before Morgenstern approached me yesterday.”

“Alec is….” She still hadn’t opened the envelope.

“Gay,” Magnus confirmed.

Imogen pursed her lips and undid the catch, sliding the photos out. She regarded them…clinically.

Magnus ran his forefinger over his thumb as he gave Imogen time to rifle through the stack. “Morgenstern presented those pictures to me yesterday. Threatened that he would forcibly out Alec if Alec didn’t agree to become a client again and use his media darling status to bring other clients back to their firm. Since Alec was already planning on coming out, we could have manipulated the spin in his favor if needed. But Morgenstern also decided to do some digging around in _my_ past.”

Magnus took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He’d avoided thinking about his childhood since talking to Alec last night. Remembering left him too vulnerable, and it was a state he couldn’t afford to be in right now. “From what he said to me yesterday it sounds as if he knows everything. He thinks that revealing information about my past will ruin me, but it will only harm Alec.”

Imogen was well aware of the reasons for Magnus’ unorthodox arrival in the United States. Revealing his immigration process had been part of his background check when he was hired. Coupled with the threat to Alec, Magnus couldn’t be sure how Imogen would react to this news, though.

As Imogen’s silence dragged on, Magnus shifted uncomfortably. “At least, that’s the impression I’m operating under.”

“Your past isn’t an issue with me or the executive team,” Imogen replied. “You wouldn’t have started working here if it was. And Alec’s sexuality isn’t an issue at IE either.”

Imogen was intelligent. Pragmatic. He hadn’t expected any other answer from her, but he eased in his chair again.

She set the photos aside and focused her steely-eyed gaze on him. “But together, we do have a PR problem. I see what these pictures could portray, however I want to hear it from you. What exactly is your relationship with Alec?”

“I am Alec’s agent,” Magnus answered succinctly, meeting her unflinching gaze. “And he is my friend.”

“While our personalities do not mesh, Magnus, I respect you. You’ve proven yourself over and over to me and you’ve never directly lied to me.” She frowned. “Don’t start now.”

“Alec and I _are_ friends. If I may be blunt…?” Imogen gave a clipped nod. “Alec and I haven’t had sex. There can’t be anything formalized between us besides our business relationship right now.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both. I’m focused on protecting Alec’s safety and career, and IE’s interests at this time.”

“‘Right now’ and ‘at this time.’ You are choosing your words carefully,” Imogen noted.

Magnus was, but he wouldn’t hide that his priorities would eventually shift. “I am.”

Imogen leaned forward and rotated her computer screen to face Magnus. “These pictures I received in my email today make much more sense now.”

This was a different set of photos than were in the envelope, but all featuring he and Alec. All with the same connotation. Magnus perused the new photos with an outward calm, even though he was seething inside at Morgenstern’s viciousness, and met Imogen’s eyes again. His anger was focused on one person—and that wasn’t Imogen. “I suppose I should be upset that you were testing me, but I have more important things to worry about.”

“It wasn’t as much a test as giving you space to tell me the truth.”

Magnus huffed, but had to relinquish a small smile. Imogen hadn’t gotten to her position without some deviousness of her own.

He let that topic sit and moved on. “I’m hoping you’ll consider advising every other IE agent that has clients left with Morgenstern & Morgenstern that they need to take their finances elsewhere.”

“But not until IE is out of the spotlight and Alec’s safety has been secured.”

Magnus nodded. “Not until then.”

Imogen rotated her screen around again and clasped her hands on her desk. “And I trust you also have a plan for what defensive position we must take.”

“I’m working with our PR firm on crisis management and a full coming out plan—both will available for your review later today. I also have a call scheduled with Dot this afternoon and a follow up meeting with her while I’m in Dallas.”

Imogen’s brow furrowed at that. “Dorothea Rollins?”

“Morgenstern threatened Alec’s contract with Gallant,” Magnus explained. “Dot will be sympathetic, but if this explodes during tonight’s event she may not be able to salvage his contract.”

“You are as thorough as always.”

Magnus twisted his hand in the air, a wry smirk on his lips. “I’m attempting to work my magic.”

Imogen sat up taller. “We need to be clear on this one point—if anything ever changes between you and Alec, you cannot represent him anymore.”

“I’m aware and so is Alec,” Magnus said unapologetically. “I’d like to see Alec through his contract negotiation, but if anything changes before then I will remove myself. Regardless, we should begin talking about a succession plan if we want Alec to stay with IE. As of now, there aren’t any agents working for us I could see being the right fit for him, but perhaps I can be swayed.”

Imogen’s lips twitched. “I didn’t realize you were swayable.”

Magnus twirled his hand in the air. “I am extraordinarily flexible when the right occasion arises.”

Imogen shook her head, a near smile on her face.

Magnus rose to his feet, leaving the envelope with Imogen. He didn’t need to have those in his possession anymore. “I’ll see you at the event tonight.”

“Do you think Sebastian Morgenstern will make an appearance?”

It was at the top of the list of Magnus’ concerns. “I don’t know. But for Alec’s sake, I hope he doesn’t.”

“Magnus.” Imogen was smiling now. “You are relentless when faced with a challenge. I’m not worried about Alec or you. If Sebastian values his money, let alone his head, for _his_ sake I hope he doesn’t show up.”

Magnus nodded and strode out of Imogen’s office—genuine hope lightening each of his steps.

 

****

 

Alec filled a glass with water and brought it to Lydia. She’d paled more and more as he’d talked, telling her everything Izzy hadn’t. Apparently, Izzy had kept her briefing with Lydia much more factual than the emotional tirade Alec had just unwittingly dropped on Lydia.

“That was more ranting than I expected to do,” Alec apologized as he handed the glass over.

Lydia took a drink and shook her head. “You obviously needed to get it out. After hearing all of that, I’m thinking I should’ve brought my flask, though.”

Alec chuckled. “It would’ve matched your dress perfectly.”

Lydia was perched on the edge of her chair as not to wrinkle the crimson form-fitting dress she wore for the Gallant event. She tugged at the hem brushing the top of her knees. “I could’ve used one of those thigh holsters women always have in westerns. I could pull that look off, right?”

“Always seemed like it would be a lot of work to access,” Alec said, dropping onto the couch next to her. He smirked and shrugged. “But what do I know about wearing heels or a skirt?”

“I think the point of the under-dress hiding place was to catch people unaware. Just a normal woman, not a gun-toting or alcohol-wielding hussy.”

“You are such a hussy,” Alec teased.

Lydia beamed. “I know, right?” She pointed at his clothes. “So, uh, sweatpants tonight?”

“I’m waiting for my suit to be delivered.” Alec cleared his throat. “I asked Magnus to pick something out for me. Weeks ago. You know, before all of…this.”

Lydia studied him for a moment. Then her voice gentled. “Your face changes when you say his name.”

Alec bit at his lip to hold back what was sure to be a sappy grin.

“It’s a good thing, Alec. I’m happy for you.”

There was a knock on the door and Alec jumped to his feet in a rush—partially to exit out of having to find some way to reply to what Lydia had said, but also because he’d been hoping all day that maybe Magnus would be the one to deliver Alec’s clothes for tonight.

He unbolted the door and pulled it open to find Clary balancing a garment bag and a duffel over her shoulder.

She smiled up at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said distractedly. He glanced over her head and down the hallway.

Clary sighed. “No Magnus. Sorry.”

Alec frowned and let her in.

“Hey, Lydia,” Clary greeted. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks! I used that Rent the Runway site.” Lydia pushed out a hip, did a supermodel pout, and Clary grinned.

Alec raised his eyebrows and shut the door. “You two are awfully friendly. Should I be worried you’re going to steal my fake girlfriend, Fray?”

Lydia smacked him on the back with her purse. “We’re in the same kickboxing class with Izzy—although I haven’t been in few weeks. How’s that new teacher?”

“Same,” Clary said. “Too much arms, not enough glutes.”

“Your ass looks really….”—Alec gestured in her general direction and avoided looking anywhere near her ass—“round already, Clary.” She quirked an eyebrow and Alec sputtered. “Can we just get on with this? Please?”

Clary hooked the bag on the back of the door. “Of course. I’m sure you’re ready to get there.”

“I’m ready to _get out_ of there and I’m not even there yet.” Alec was perilously close to sulking. “Any chance they won’t notice if I don’t show up?”

Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Maybe this will help.” Clary dug through the duffel. “Magnus asked me to deliver this to you.”

Alec’s heartbeat kicked up. He lifted the box out of Clary’s hands, fingers grazing over the handwritten note that was attached to the front.

 

_I don’t want everything between us right now to be tinged by sadness and regret. We have a lot to look forward to…._

_-M_

 

Alec removed the note, read the label on the shiny box with embossed lettering, and laughed out loud.

It was Magnus’ brand of luxury soap. The same soap Alec had…made good use of in Magnus’ shower. _A lot to look forward to_ , huh? Only Magnus could manage to make a sexual innuendo with an otherwise innocuous object. Thankfully, neither Clary nor Lydia asked for any kind of explanation. Alec had to assume the heat in his cheeks said everything.

“He also picked this out for you to wear tonight.” Clary held out a small black box, a definite smirk on her lips. “Wings for his Angel. His words.”

Alec set the first present aside and opened the lid. Inside was a silver bracelet that would look like a line of feathers around his wrist. _Wings for his Angel_. That line was over the top, devastatingly sweet, and so _Magnus_.

Alec swallowed around the ache building in his chest and put it on. He glanced between Lydia and Clary, both of whom seemed intent on assessing his reaction.

He scratched at his beard to cover up his self-consciousness. “Is this borrowed like the clothes?”

Clary shook her head. “No. This one you get to keep.”

Alec nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Come on,” Clary urged. “Try the suit on so I can take a pic and report to my boss whether or not it highlights your broad shoulders the way it’s supposed to. I’m also under explicit instructions to take a full body shot so he can ensure you’re Gallant brand appropriate and that quote-unquote all that glorious facial hair is still in place.”

As if he would shave this beard off when it seemed to be an endless source of joy for Magnus.

“Right. I’m just”—he pointed over his shoulder—“going in there now.”

Lydia and Clary glanced at each other knowingly and Alec whipped the garment bag off the door and shut himself into his bedroom. He laid the bag on the bed and unzipped it slowly, excited to see what Magnus had picked out for him.

Alec smiled as he took stock of the contents. Magnus’ fashion sense was as flawless as usual. He’d picked out a classic fit charcoal suit, a dark blue collared shirt with white buttons, and no tie. Simple, modern. Striking.

Alec peered at the label and chuckled. Tom Ford.

He would have to remember that Magnus paid attention to everything Alec told him.

Alec got dressed, leaving the top button undone on the shirt, and went into his bathroom to slick his hair back and check his beard again to make sure there weren’t any stray hairs. He picked up his beard comb and started to run it through, his hand freezing when he realized that was a gift Magnus had given to him too.

He huffed out a laugh.

This beard comb. The bracelet. A paperback on his nightstand and an audiobook on his phone. An empty hanger in his closet where his Angels’ sweatshirt had been. He was wearing a suit to a public function that Magnus had picked out for him. _That damn soap_.

He was surrounded by evidence of Magnus’ presence in his life. He’d always been meticulous about not accumulating anything that would hint that he was gay. And now, Magnus was entangled in almost every facet of Alec’s daily life and Alec wanted more.

The weight of the bracelet on his wrist was reassuring. A reminder.

He didn’t know what tonight would bring, but he had no doubt Magnus would be at his side through all of it.

Alec caught the smile on his face in his reflection and shook his head fondly as he walked out of the bathroom.

Max had been right—Magnus did make him happy.

Clary and Lydia were huddled together talking when Alec rejoined them in the living room and both of their heads snapped up.

Alec stuffed one hand in his pocket and waved the other near his head. “How’s the hair?”

“You look red carpet chic, Alec,” Lydia reassured him with a smile.

“You do.” Clary stepped up to him. “Oh, and Magnus also told me do this.” Clary reached up and undid one more button of his shirt before Alec could protest, then took a step back and whipped out her phone to take a pic. Alec chuckled as he attempted to cover up his face with his hand.

“Knock it off, Alec,” Clary said, and batted his hand away.

Alec relented—this was the first of so many photos he’d have to pose for tonight. He gave his best I’m-a-serious-athlete face and Clary snapped off a few pics in quick succession.

Clary was focused on typing when she said, “Your car will be here in about twenty minutes. I have to head over to the venue now to verify that the last minute additions from IE have been added to the list.” She looked up from her phone. “You need anything else?”

“A really good excuse for not showing up tonight?” Alec tried.

Clary smiled serenely. “See you at the party.”

“First drink’s on me for skipping out on kickboxing class, Clary,” Lydia offered.

Alec scoffed. “Pretty sure the drinks will be free. But if not, they’re all on me tonight.” He tucked Clary under his arm and walked her out.

As soon as the door was closed Alec turned to face Lydia. “Okay. I’m better and yet still nervous.”

“It will be okay,” she said, her features going soft.

Alec took a deep breath. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. Maybe not tonight, but it will be.” Lydia opened up her purse and pulled out a compact. “May I? You’re sweating a bit and—” She gestured with the compact at his forehead. “How about some powder on your t-zone? It will help keep shine to a minimum.”

“I don’t know what a t-zone is, but go for it. I’ve worn more makeup in the last month than I have in years.”

The corner of Lydia’s lips tipped up. “There’s a story there you can share with me on the car ride over.” Lydia dabbed at his face then put her compact away and threaded her arm through his, facing the mirror in Alec’s hallway. “We look nice together.”

They looked like a power couple. Young. Beautiful. Styled to take over the world.

And it was all a lie.

Alec met her eyes in the mirror. “This is the last time, Lydia. I can’t pretend anymore.”

Lydia tugged on his hand until he was facing her. “I’m your friend, Alec. Here to support you. We’ve never said anything publicly about what our relationship is or isn’t. We’ve never even done anything more than you kissing my cheek, your arm around my waist, or a hug. I’d like to think that me being your friend _isn’t_ pretending.”

Alec scowled. “It’s not— I didn’t mean it that way.” He sighed. “You know what I mean, right?”

Lydia smiled sadly. “I do.” She stepped back and went for the kitchen. “I know you don’t want to have alcohol on your breath for the press line, but do you mind if I raid your liquor cabinet?”

“Shit. I’m so wrapped up in my own head I haven’t even thanked you for going to this tonight. Or asked about how you’re doing.” Alec realized Lydia was waiting for an actual answer on the alcohol and nodded. She took out a bottle of whiskey and poured a shot, knocking it back swiftly. She was an alcohol-wielding hussy and he was grateful she was his friend. “So, you and Jace were talking a lot after he got injured. That going anywhere? I mean, besides the occasional hook up?”

She placed the bottle back in the cabinet. “Comparing information from two different sources?”

“I haven’t asked Jace about you at all. Prying anything out of him when he doesn’t want to talk is painful.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow as she reentered the living room.

Alec scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I’m the same way.”

“Let’s just say that my love life is _evolving_ —like everything else since John died.”

“So the job too, huh?”

Lydia opened up her purse and pulled out lipstick, reapplying it in the hallway mirror. “It’s all fair game at this point. Being a lawyer was the career my parents wanted, not me. I’m giving myself time to get it right.”

The buzzer to Alec’s apartment went off and Alec jumped. He put his fingers to the bracelet on his left wrist, steadying himself.

Lydia clicked the top to her lipstick tube in place and faced him. All red lips, curvy hips, and radiating confidence. “Let’s go, Lightwood. You got this.”

 

****

 

The driver opened the door at the Gallant campaign launch venue and Alec emerged, greeted by flashbulbs as he held out a hand for Lydia to take.

A woman with strawberry blonde hair in a black cocktail dress approached them. “Mr. Lightwood? I’m Meg from Alicante Public Relations. Do you have any questions or concerns we need to address before we hit the press line?”

Alec swallowed. He’d read Izzy’s draft statements and knew that Meg was here to step in if reporters asked anything that wasn’t hockey or Gallant related, but there was no good way to prepare for potentially being kicked out of his closet in a very public way. He adjusted his bracelet and shook his head.

“Let’s go ahead then. This way.”

“Hang on, let me fix your collar.” Lydia tugged at him, bringing him closer to her while also glancing at the PR rep to make sure she was out of earshot. She locked eyes with him. “It _will_ be okay. Breathe. Smile. Treat this like every other press conference or interview you’ve ever done.”

Alec took her first piece of advice and inhaled deeply. “Thank you for being here with me.”

“You said that already.”

“Very sure I didn’t spell it out. So thank you.”

Lydia smiled and smoothed and her hands down his lapels. “I get to rent a fabulous dress. Have my makeup done. Spend time outside the office for the night—with friends. This is fun, Alec.”

“Glad one of us will have a good time tonight,” he grumbled and she laughed as he hooked an arm around her waist.

Together they posed for a few photos, then Meg directed Lydia off to the side and the focus was all on Alec—who was internally scrambling to figure out if there was a way to convince his sweat glands to close up shop for the night. But the photographers were all trying to get his attention at the same time, so they started calling out bets on the how many games the next round would last—lighting up a mini rivalry in the press line between Angels fans and Penguins fans—and Alec couldn’t help but begin to really smile.

After that he made his way down the line answering the usual questions—the ones he could rattle off without having to think at all, because the appropriate responses had been drilled into him since there was even a hint of him going pro—and Alec relaxed even more.

Towards the end of the line, Alec saw Jace hugging Lydia out of the corner of his eye—a distance between them that was socially acceptable.

“Come on, Wayland,” he called out. “Can’t deny the camera your beauty for too long.”

Jace loped over with a wide grin on his face and clapped him on the back. They posed for photos together, and signed a few autographs, and when Jace headed inside Meg was at Alec’s side immediately. “You’re done. Not too painful, right?”

“Alec!”

Alec turned at the shout and caught eyes with an NBC Sports reporter he’d talked to earlier.

“Alec, we need you to comment on a breaking story. Could we have a moment of your time before you go in?”

Alec froze. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and he looked to Meg for help.

Shit. This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t ready.

Meg was holding a hand over her earpiece, head tipped as if she was listening to someone on the other end. Alec tensed as he waited.

She pursed her lips then met his eyes. “I’ve been losing my cell signal all night under this metal overhang. The call dropped off before I could hear what Isabelle advised.”

The spots from the camera flashes still danced in his eyes, and his vision was graying out at the edges…. Alec sucked in a panicked breath. He acknowledged the reporter with a nod and handed his cell over to Meg, entering his passcode with shaking fingers. “Use mine. I need to know what to do here.”

She nodded. “Give me a minute.”

Alec grimaced. His survival instincts were kicking into overdrive. Everything in Alec was telling him to run. Neither flight nor fight was a solid strategy at this point, though.

Meg was grimacing when she turned back around. “You don’t have any service either.”

He turned to Lydia, but knew what her answer would be just by the look on her face. “Same here.”

Meg handed his cell back to him and Alec stared at the picture on his home screen….

A shot Izzy had snapped of he, Max, and Magnus standing at the bar together—their backs to the camera—at the post-game seven celebration. Max in his Angels hoodie, Alec in a plain black tee, and Magnus with Lightwood 89 emblazoned on his back, his head turned toward Alec, smiling.

The answer to what Max had asked him last night was so simple.

Alec didn’t want to be dominated by _any_ of his fears anymore.

“I know my signal was fine in other spots,” Meg said. “Give me a minute and I’ll track back—”

He steeled himself and faced Meg. “No. I’m going to talk to them.”

Meg gave a curt nod. “I’ll intervene if needed.”

Lydia stepped up to him and set her palm on his jaw, running her thumb over his cheek. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Alec searched her face. “Even if it’s…not, then it will be later. Right?”

“Exactly.” Lydia took his hand and urged him forward. “I’m right here.” She took one discreet step back when he was in front of the reporter, but remained at his side.

Alec forced a smile and braced himself. “A breaking story?”

He clasped his hand over his wrist behind his back, holding on to that bracelet in a death grip.

The woman brought the microphone to her lips. “How do you feel about being a finalist for the goaltender of the year award?”

Alec’s hearing fuzzed out for a moment and his eyes widened. Had she just said…? His hands slipped apart and he ran shaking fingers over his mouth. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The list of finalists for the goaltender trophy was just released,” the reporter said with a huge smile. “You’re one of the three.”

Relief flooded through his veins and he glanced at Lydia—who had a wide grin on her face as she reached out and squeezed his arm—then turned to face the reporter again. Alec chuckled, all tension draining away in a rush. “This is the first I’m hearing about it and I’m—” Alec sucked in a huge breath. “I’m honored that the owners nominated me.”

“You had a rough start in the first round, but in the last two games you’ve played nearly perfect. Anything you can attribute that change to?”

“There are many factors that influence how a game goes down. The Angels are the best team I’ve ever played with, though,” Alec recited. That answer was one he’d given multiple times before, but that wasn’t the whole truth. “And my off-ice support crew is incredible.” Alec ran his thumb over the feathers on the bracelet and smiled. “Magnificent, really.”

“Thank you, Alec.”

With the news of his nomination shooting adrenaline through his veins, Alec swept Lydia into a hug.

“Come on, Lightwood,” Lydia said, laughing as he released her. “Let’s go celebrate.”

Alec strode into the glass-encased atrium—with his head held high.

 

****

 

_Your man was just notified that he’s one of the finalists for goalie of the year_

Magnus grinned at the text from Izzy. Everything about that message was perfect. Sheer, unambiguous perfection.

His man—he liked that moniker more than was likely healthy—was finally getting all the positive recognition he deserved.

The party was in full swing—even if the guest of honor was still outside the venue—the campaign was already popping up on social media, and the Angels were headed into the second round of the playoffs.

Tessa tapped his arm and Magnus looked up, following her gaze to the front door—where Alec was entering with Lydia at his side. Jace appeared out of the crowd and crashed into Alec, lifting him off his feet in a bear hug. Magnus could hear Alec’s unguarded laughter from across the room.

Everything could change in a heartbeat, but Magnus was sure that tonight wasn’t going to be that night.

 

****

 

Alec hadn’t made it farther than a handful of steps into the party without being inundated with people who wanted to talk to him. To congratulate him. Even Gallant’s CMO Dorothea Rollins—who had been distantly professional when Alec had first met her—was warm when she approached him.

He gradually moved farther inside with each new person that wanted a minute or ten of his time. It had been hours of small talk, shaking hands, taking pictures, and signing autographs—on thick, glossy copies of the campaign photos that were hung on every wall of the venue—but Alec still hadn’t talked to the one person whose voice he wanted to hear more than any other.

Magnus was in the same room as him, twenty feet away. Every time Alec thought he could feel Magnus’ eyes on him, he would get pulled in a different direction, and when he found Magnus in the room again he’d be engaged in conversation with Tessa or another person at his side.

Alec stood in a circle now with Clary, Jace, and Lydia, but he was barely paying attention to what they were saying.

He had every inch of Magnus’ appearance memorized from the sheer number of times he sought out even a glimpse. Magnus had on a black jacket with embroidered gold threads woven throughout. A dark red collarless shirt with a respectable number of buttons undone. His hair swept high, and bold eyeliner sweeping off the corners of his eyes. His lips were red—the same red they’d been the night Magnus had gone to dinner with Alec and his family. Alec had wanted to kiss Magnus that night.

Tonight, all he wanted was to see Magnus’ lips curve into a smile when he was looking at Alec.

He was sure Magnus was giving Alec space. Making sure Alec was comfortable. Respecting that boundary line that Alec had set up by bringing Lydia here. Alec was reinforcing his own closet tonight, and although he had very good reasons for doing it, it wasn’t how he wanted to live anymore.

He wasn’t supposed to be seen with Magnus at all.

But Magnus was his agent. And this was a business function. So talking to him was okay…. Right?

Fuck Sebastian Morgenstern. This was the longest he and Magnus had gone without speaking directly to each other since the beginning—when they’d hated each other—and Alec couldn’t go one more minute.

“Listen—” The conversation around him stopped cold the second Alec opened his mouth. He’d interrupted whatever the three of them had been talking about.

“Sorry, I just….” Alec glanced at Magnus again, not wanting to lose him in the crowd.

Clary followed his gaze and stifled a snort with her hand.

Alec leveled her with a look.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Lydia said. “Clary, Jace, you two want to join me? I think Alec has an IE contact he needs to catch up with.”

Jace grinned and clapped Alec’s back. “Say hi to Magnus for me, bro.”

“Have fun,” Lydia singsonged and looped her arms through Clary’s and Jace’s, leading them towards the bar.

Alec took a deep breath and made his way through the crowd toward Magnus.

“How does one make elbows look so manly?” Alec heard Tessa comment as he stepped up behind her.

Alec leaned said elbow on the high-top table she and Magnus were at. “It’s a talent, Tessa.”

“Alec!” Tessa proclaimed. “I didn’t know if I’d get a chance to say hello to you.”

Alec leaned down and kissed her on both her cheeks. When he stood again he locked eyes with Magnus, drinking in every inch of him. “Good evening, Mr. Bane.”

“Mr. Lightwood.” Magnus’ gaze raked over Alec, eyes pausing at the open v of Alec’s shirt. “The Victorian Era has never looked more modernly dashing.”

“I am a gentleman.”

Tessa scoffed and waved a hand at the campaign photos. “There is nothing gentlemanly about all that skin showing.”

“It’s what an athlete is made of, Tessa,” Magnus said with a flourish of his hands that never failed to capture all of Alec’s attention. “Hard muscle and chest hair and overpriced bottles of vitamin-laced endurance water—available now at your local grocer.”

Alec wanted to reach across the table and drag Magnus over. To kiss that sarcasm and beautiful self-satisfied smirk off his lips. And Magnus was looking at Alec as if he knew exactly what Alec was thinking. Alec held Magnus’ unflinching, flirtatious gaze for a beat longer then refocused on Tessa before he made a very public spectacle. “Did you bring your husbands?”

Tessa pointed across the room. “That’s Will and Jem over there by the bottle display.”

Alec followed her direction to find a black-haired man pointing at something in the rafters of the massive atrium and a man with a silver streak running through his hair shaking his head adamantly, his arms crossed.

Magnus laughed. “Should we be worried about whatever it appears Jem is trying to dissuade Will from doing?”

“Will is your date tonight, not mine,” Tessa said. “And it’s when Jem joins in that we need to worry.”

Alec lifted an eyebrow. “Will is your date tonight, huh?”

“Sadly, it’s a failed romance,” Magnus said with a twist of his lip. “Seeing as both of us are currently spoken for.”

Alec’s heart didn’t beat any faster at that admission. It just didn’t.

He ducked his head and smiled, fingers immediately going to the bracelet around his wrist.

“Shit,” Tessa swore and took off, calling out, “Will, no!”

Alec tracked Tessa’s mad dash across the floor to where Jace was now with Will and Jem. And Will appeared to be trying to climb onto Jace’s shoulders while Jem…held them steady?

Alec gave an exasperated chuckle and faced Magnus. “Should we help her?”

Magnus shook his head. “If anyone gets kicked out of the party tonight it’s probably better if it’s not you.”

“Probably,” Alec agreed. He set his forearms on the table and leaned down, getting as close to Magnus as he could. He had Magnus to himself for now, and even though Sebastian was the last thing he wanted to talk about, he needed to hear what Magnus was thinking. “Do you think we still need to worry about anything happening tonight?”

“Tonight? No. Morgenstern would be a fool to make any kind of move right now. Your stock just soared.” Magnus beamed and lifted his glass. “Congratulations on the nomination.”

“Thanks. I didn’t expect it.”

“You should have, Alexander. You deserve it.”

Magnus being proud of him didn’t fail to make him a blushing mess. “So, uh…. Are you going to be at the game tomorrow?”

Magnus abruptly frowned. “It’s probably best if I’m not there. I’m—”

“Don’t apologize,” Alec cut in. “I know you’d be there if you could.”

Magnus’ brows stitched together and he began to run his pointer finger over the ring on his thumb.

Alec was beginning to hate the moment when he could see Magnus’ defenses going up. He just wanted to see Magnus happy. “It’s too bad you can’t come, because, you know…. Max will really miss you.”

“Max will? Interesting.”

“Well, and maybe Clary and Izzy. And Simon. He seems to kind of have a crush on you.”

Magnus huffed. “I am irresistible. But apparently not missed by all.”

“Maybe I’ll miss you a bit too,” Alec allowed.

Magnus took a sip of his drink, the edges of his mouth in a restrained smile.

When Magnus set his glass down again, Alec added, “Okay, maybe a lot.”

The corners of Magnus’ eyes crinkled and his lips parted with a low chuckle as he gazed at Alec.

There.

There was the smile Alec had waiting for.

And, yes, that smile had been exactly what he’d needed, but with that out of the way, now all he needed was to kiss Magnus again. Maybe two or three times. Or just never stop. Ever. That sounded like the best course of action.

That couldn’t happen yet, but it would be soon. He was much more sure of that then he’d been last night.

Alec ran his hand over his beard and stood. As much as he wanted to stay here all night, there were other people he had to talk to. And if he didn’t walk away then _soon_ would become _now_. “Have you seen Aline or Helen?”

“I did earlier. But they may have slipped out already. This isn’t really their scene—”

“Alec?” Imogen said as she approached the table.

Alec stepped forward and kissed Imogen’s cheek. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

“Is it time to speak of that championship yet?”

Alec shook his head. “It’s the first game of the second round tomorrow. We’re only allowed to talk about that.”

Imogen took both his hands in hers. “I won’t jinx you. I just wanted to let you know that you have the full support of IE in whatever comes next.” Alec gaped, looking to Magnus immediately. Imogen noticed and added, “Magnus does too. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As Imogen walked away, Alec turned to Magnus. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

Magnus nodded. “Call me as soon as you get home, Alexander. I’ll tell you all about it. We need to celebrate every small success.”

 

****

 

Magnus kicked off his shoes at the door, threw his jacket over one of the bar stools, and made his way into his bedroom. He was exhausted, but there was no way he’d sleep until he’d talked to Alec. He settled against his headboard, laid his cell on his stomach, and closed his eyes.

He’d excused himself from the party before Alec, so he didn’t know how long it would take for Alec to escape from the adoring masses, let alone make it home. But Magnus’ heart raced when he heard the trill of Facetime within minutes. He picked up the call immediately.

“Home so soon?” he asked Alec.

Alec was walking through his apartment, a wide smile on his face. “I left right after you did. Lydia was having fun with Clary, Jace, Will, Jem, and Tessa but I was done. Those kinds of events take a lot out of me.”

“You can play sixty minutes of one of the fastest-moving sports on the planet—in one of the most difficult positions—but a party wears you out?”

Alec was nodding. “Yep.”

Magnus laughed. “Did you enjoy yourself, though?”

“Hang on. I have to hang up this jacket.”

“I’m more than happy to watch you undress.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Just give me a minute.”

Alec set his phone down and all Magnus could see was a white ceiling.

How extraordinarily disappointing.

“You can still tell me about your evening while you strip,” Magnus teased.

The sound of Alec chuckling came over the line. “I actually did have a good time.” The picture on the screen went into motion, then Alec was holding his cell again. He still had his dress shirt on and his hair was spiked up at odd angles—as if he’d been dragging his fingers through it. “I wish I could’ve spent more time, you know, with you. But I—” Alec shook his head. “I don’t know how else to say it, but I felt like you were kind of there with me all night. With this bracelet…. I don’t know. Having it…helped. Thank you.”

Since Alec didn’t wear any jewelry, Magnus had been unsure how Alec would view that gift. He preened. “I’m glad it helped.”

The picture blurred and when Alec came back into focus Magnus could see that he was sitting against a wall of pillows. “ _You_ helped, Magnus. You always seem to know exactly what to do. So tell me—what happened with Imogen?”

Magnus took a breath. “Short version—we discussed all the details of Morgenstern and your plan to come out. She saw the pictures and we discussed next steps. Just as she said to you tonight, she supports you and I completely. She asked if we were involved with each other. I told her we hadn’t had sex.”

Alec’s eyebrows lifted. “You talked about our sex life with Imogen Herondale?”

 _Our sex life_. Magnus restrained a smile. “It was the most honest answer I could give that didn’t require a follow up question. There are other things we’ve done that are better left between the two of us.”

“Right.”

A blush was crawling up Alec’s cheeks that made Magnus want to add a litany of new activities to _their_ sex life. “Anyway, I’m sure she’s working her own agenda here, but I trust her when says that we have her support. Dot said the same thing.”

Alec furrowed his brow. “Dot?”

“Dorothea Rollins—”

“From Gallant,” Alec finished. “She came up to me tonight and was much friendlier than I expected.”

“You have another advocate in your corner. Two very powerful ones at this point.”

Alec blew out a long breath. “Those are more than small successes, Magnus.”

“I’ll continue working for there to be more. The only thing you need to focus on right now is hockey. It’s time to get superstitious.”

“Speaking of—” Alec looked off screen and shook his head, smiling. “The soap….” Alec bit at his lip. “You realize what your other gift tonight…implied. Right?”

He was quite aware of what it implied. “Whatever do you mean, darling?”

Alec refocused on him. A distinct playfulness in his eyes. “You gave me the soap I used in your shower,” he deadpanned.

“I fail to see where the implication comes in,” Magnus said coyly.

“I have a game tomorrow, Magnus.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you know the full extent of how I….”—Alec paused. Fingers toying at the buttons of his shirt, thumb grazing his chest hair—“prepare.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow at Alec’s open flirting.

He’d seen this side of Alec the morning after they’d slept in the same bed. And despite the clear implication of his gift, this was a subject Magnus hadn’t been _prepared_ to discuss at all. But he was more than willing to stand at full attention for whatever Alec wanted to discuss.

How far would Alec take this?

“Your beard doesn’t look like it needs a trim, Alexander.”

“That wasn’t what I was implying.” Alec ran a hand over his beard. Licked his lips. Magnus tracked every movement hungrily. “When I get into my shower tomorrow morning and use that soap you know exactly what I’m going to be thinking about.”

“Do I?” Magnus pressed. He couldn’t imagine Alec giving him an actual answer.

Alec grinned and Magnus recognized that look—Alec had ensnared him. Magnus had assumed he was guiding Alec into new territory, but Alec had been baiting _him_.

Alec’s voice dropped low. “I’m going to be thinking about your lips on me. About what it felt like to have my hands on your skin.”

A shiver slinked down Magnus’ spine and all notions of him teasing Alec flew out of his head.

Where had this stunningly uninhibited side of Alec come from? And what feats did Magnus have to perform to coax it to the surface more often?

Magnus swallowed thickly. “I think I’m understanding the implications now.”

“I don’t think you are,” Alec said. He ran his hand over his chest, down his stomach, and out of sight of the camera….

“Alexander.” His voice was rough. “Are you touching yourself?”

Alec chuckled—all wickedness and satisfaction. “Superstitions, Magnus. I won’t be getting off until tomorrow.”

“A travesty,” Magnus said, regaining a modicum of his composure. He locked his eyes with Alec’s. “Otherwise, I could help you out now.”

“You could give me something to…look forward to.” Alec dropped his chin and looked up at Magnus through his lashes. “I mean, you do have to get undressed for bed, right?”

Magnus momentarily forgot how to breathe.

He wasn’t shy about his body or about his ability to turn his lovers into writhing messes. But having someone watching him and him not being able to touch the other person at all…. This was new. This was _Alexander_.

And Alec knew very well that Magnus wouldn’t say no to him. “Something for you to think about tomorrow?”

Alec bit at his lip—his hazel eyes gone dark—and nodded.

 

****

 

If this was the way Magnus looked at him when they were just talking—not even touching—then Alec was beginning to think he may not survive having sex with Magnus Bane.

“How much do you want to see?” Magnus asked. Unapologetic. Confident.

Alec could hold his own in the bedroom, but—just like when they were on the dance floor—Magnus was on a completely different level.

“Fuck, Magnus.” Alec squeezed his eyes shut. Every inch of him. Alec wanted to see it all. But…. He opened his eyes and gritted out, “I think it’s better if you keep things above the waist.”

Magnus smirked. “So chaste.”

“Very sure there’s nothing chaste about this.”

Magnus went into motion, and when Alec could see him again Magnus was on his knees on his bed. His eyes were locked to the phone that had to be situated against his pillows now. “You’re not going to get off at all right now?”

Shit.

That sentence delivered from Magnus’ red lips was sinful temptation.

Alec licked his own lips and shook his head. He needed the release on game day. “Not until tomorrow. I, uh…. I have a rock solid stand for my phone now, though.”

Magnus smirked. “How about a button for a button?” Magnus put his fingers to his shirt and arched an eyebrow. “I’ll show you mine, you show me yours?”

“You saw me nearly naked in large-scale, full detail tonight.”

Magnus tipped his head. “Humor me with the live version.”

That first photo shoot. LA. Magnus had seen him in almost nothing two times before they’d even _kissed_. “You’ve seen that already too.”

“Please, Alexander,” Magnus purred. He undid the first button.

“This is crossing another line, Magnus,” Alec said, even as his fingers went to his own shirt.

Magnus circled his agile fingers around another button and popped it open. “I don’t even know what a line is.”

Alec’s heart was racing. He huffed out a laugh. “Clearly.”

“Come on, Alexander,” Magnus taunted him. “I’m at two and you’re at none. And I know how much you love to win.”

Alec undid two buttons and immediately went for the third.

Magnus released one more, then slid his hands up his chest, fingers circling around the back of his neck.

“Leave your necklaces on,” Alec rasped, undoing the last of his buttons and letting his shirt fall open. He ran his hand over his chest hair. Fuck. He wanted Magnus over him, those necklaces trailing over his skin as Magnus moved up his body. “I…like those.”

Magnus grinned, fingers entwining with the chains. “You like them?”

“I like the way they look on you.”

Magnus hummed and went back to unfastening the last of his buttons. His shirt billowed open and before Alec even had time to appreciate how gorgeous that view was, Magnus was shrugging the shirt off his shoulders and dropping it with one hand off the side of the bed.

Alec’s synapses fired all at once.

He couldn’t decide which part of Magnus he wanted to fixate on more. His eyes raked over lean muscle, smooth chest, dark nipples. Those necklaces dancing across Magnus’ skin…. His heart pounded as he took in the very obvious below-the-belt evidence that if Alec had been in the same room as him that Magnus would’ve been up for much more than just a striptease.

He knew what it felt like to have his body against Magnus’, but could only imagine what it would actually be like to be under him, to be skin to skin, Magnus grabbing onto his hips—

Magnus popped the top button of his suit pants, slid his hand under his waistband, and every ounce of blood in Alec’s body shot to his groin.

Alec sucked in a breath, his hips pumping up, and sent his phone tumbling forward, smacking against his stomach. The moment broken by his own over-eagerness, Alec choked out a laugh and picked his cell up, covering his face with his hand. “Oh my god. Shit. I think we better stop there.”

“You’re sure?”

Alec peeked between his fingers.

Magnus hand was trailing over the patch of skin just above his waistband.

“No,” Alec groaned. He dropped his hand to his chest, his heartbeat still racing under his fingertips. “But yes.”

“Very well. Another time then?”

Magnus set his hands on his hips and that position broadened his shoulders, made his biceps stand out, and _fuck_. Alec had had no idea that those muscles were hiding under Magnus’ expertly styled exterior.

He let his eyes linger. “Soon.”

Magnus leaned forward with a smirk and picked up his phone. “Sleep well tonight, Alexander.”

Alec dropped his head onto the pillows behind him in frustration. “I’m going to set my alarm for really, really early.”

“Enjoy your early morning shower. Text me before the game.”

“I will. On, uh, both counts—” Alec cleared his throat. Now that things were cooling down, of course that’s when his inhibitions would start to flare up. “I’m going to stop talking now. Night, Magnus.”

Magnus blew a kiss at the screen. “Goodnight, my future goaltender of the year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter has tessa discovering a link with alec's superstitions that will make things...interesting.
> 
> yelling happens here -------> @otppurefuckingmagic on tumblr ♡ xx


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus and alec fight for control of their lives….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 127 days of the shadowhunters hiatus.... ever hear of that movie 127 hours? pretty sure i'm looking at just as extreme measures to escape from this hell and into season 2. help.
> 
> first of all, i have to say THANK YOU for being as patient as all of you have been for this chapter. it's been fucking forever in coming and i appreciate everyone giving me the space to write and get it right. thank you ♡
> 
> to @sarcasticlightwood, @allofthefanfic, and @shad0w-writer.... there are no words strong enough to express gratitude for keeping me sane and making me laugh in the last month and a half. your work on this chapter made it way better than anything i could've done on my own. thank you ♡ (now let's go get some gluten free cake and do our nails!)
> 
> i've had a couple people ask about live tweeting. if you want me to see any of it, i'll start checking #itsb :) if you want to rant away on your twitter without me knowing, that's cool too :) i love, love, love how passionate ALL of you are about this fic
> 
> just three hockey things for this chapter:
> 
> 1\. five hole - nickname for the space between the goalie's legs  
> 2\. deke - a deceptive movement to make a player go out of position  
> 3\. a note on scoring for those of you who don't watch much, or any, sports - in hockey, the score is always read as "visiting team - home team"
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: homophobic character (but no slurs)
> 
> i think that's it. *eep* you know where i'll be hiding....

Magnus set his phone down on the coffee shop table and glared at it. He paused for the slightest fraction of a second, then picked it up again. His finger hovered above the home button, itching to light up the screen.

“Your desperation is showing, Bane,” he muttered to himself.

There were other things he could’ve been thinking about besides Alec. But he was having difficulty distracting himself from any other thoughts besides where, and how, Alec had started today—game day. Giving Alec that bar of soap had been an attempt to brighten Alec’s life, but Magnus hadn’t realized it would lead to his own death.

Images of how handsome and confident Alec had looked at the Gallant event—and how vulnerable, yet strong, he’d looked laying on his bed as he undressed for Magnus—were running in a never-ending loop through his brain. Especially because the photos Clary had so magnanimously sent last night of Alec in his suit were right at his fingertips.

“I am desperate, and I don’t care,” he stated proudly, and lit up his screen.

He could’ve scrolled through any of the social media apps on his phone to peruse the Gallant campaign photos that were currently setting the internet ablaze, but he preferred these three pictures. These photos were private. A glimpse into the Alec Lightwood only Magnus and a handful of other people knew.

A shy Alec, covering his face.

A laughing Alec, the creases at the corners of his lips deepening.

And finally, what would have looked like a stoic faced Alec except for a gleam of playfulness in his hazel eyes.

The top two buttons were undone on his dress shirt showing just a hint of chest hair, and the silver bracelet Magnus had given him circled Alec’s wrist. Magnus studied the image, feeling a smirk spread across his own face at the inappropriate thoughts that skittered through his head.

Courtesy of the very stimulating Facetime session with Alec last night, he could imagine undressing Alec, situating himself between Alec’s legs, grasping on to Alec’s wrists and holding them above his head…. As he rubbed his face all over Alec’s chest until Alec was shaking beneath him with laughter. It was a playful, undignified fantasy that went immediately to the top of Magnus’ to-do list.

The list of things he wanted to experience with Alec was getting very long…and excruciatingly detailed.

“Am I interrupting you?” Izzy said as she appeared at the table.

Magnus jumped and hastily flipped his phone over before he was caught ogling.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted as he stood.

He leaned in to kiss her cheeks and Izzy squeezed him between her arms instead, forcing a shocked breath out of his lungs and a genuine smile to his lips.

“FYI,” Izzy said as she stepped back, hands anchored on his arms affectionately, “the Lightwoods like to hug.”

“Noted. But you don’t need to muss your flawless hair on my account.”

Izzy ran her fingers through the loosely curled waves and tossed them over her shoulder with a grin. “Messy hair just means you’ve been doing something fun.”

Magnus’ lips tugged down. “Oh, darling. I wish this meeting was meant to be fun.”

“Anytime I get to see you is good, but I know what you mean. Want to just get to it?”

Magnus motioned for her to take the seat across from him. “First things first. Would you care for coffee or a croissant?”

“Coffee would be great. With cream and a lot of sugar, _por favor_.”

Magnus went to the counter to order, and returned with a plate of croissants to accompany the coffee.

Izzy picked up his phone to move it out of the way, a soft laugh passing over her lips when she saw what was on his screen.

“He looked great last night, didn’t he?” Izzy said as she handed his phone back to him.

Magnus spared a glance at the picture before clicking his screen dark. “He did.”

“All of the interview footage is great too—especially the one where the reporter told him about the goalie of the year nomination. Although he told me that he was completely freaked out when he first started talking to the reporter because she had asked him to comment on a breaking news story, and the Alicante rep there couldn’t reach me—”

Magnus’ breath caught as he realized what Izzy was saying. “Alec thought he was going to be outed? I wasn’t aware that had happened.”

Izzy blew into her cup of coffee as she nodded. “I wasn’t either until I talked to him this morning. But it didn’t seem like a big deal to him.” Another smile graced her lips. “He was in a _really_ good mood for it being so early when I called. Usually he’s much surlier in the mornings.... That demeanor change wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Magnus said with all coyness.

The corner of Izzy’s lips tipped into a smirk. “Uh-huh. Anyway, back to the plan…. I’ve called in a few favors and should get a heads up if Sebastian tries to release anything anonymously, but obviously there aren’t any guarantees. I have official statements from Alec and Imogen Herondale in the case of a forced outing. I could really use one from someone at Gallant as well. As high level as you can get.”

Magnus picked up one of the croissants and broke it into two pieces, swiping jam on the inside of each. “I have a meeting with Dot—their CMO—in Dallas later this week.”

“See what you can do,” Izzy said as she set down her cup. “You also need to talk to Alec about having a conversation with either his coach, or someone from the front office. I could reach out to their PR department directly, but if we’re getting ahead of this the right way then someone high-level with the Angels needs to know what’s going on.”

This strategy was one that worried Magnus. “Alec coming out to anyone in the Angels’ organization could harm his next contract.”

“ _Any_ bad press will have a negative effect on negotiations. If he is outed, we don’t want the Angels to be caught completely unaware—that would be even worse. Notifying someone in management—whoever Alec trusts the most—needs to be done.”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Magnus agreed. He pointed to the glass jar on the plate. “Their homemade jam is extravagant. If you like strawberries, you should try some.”

Izzy arched an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t supposed to put anything on a croissant?”

“One of my exes shared that view. Now I make a point to slather on as much jam as I can and hope that somewhere she is experiencing a sensation akin to someone walking over her future grave.”

Izzy grinned and dipped her knife into the jar. “Speaking of ex-girlfriends, we’re seeding articles now about an amicable break up between Lydia and Alec. They’ve never officially stated they’re dating, but we need her to exit out of his love life definitively and in a respectful way.”

He still hadn’t met Lydia face-to-face, but that Alec respected her was enough for Magnus. “We need to protect her and her reputation as well.”

“Exactly. Normally a hockey player’s relationship status wouldn’t be news at all, but Alec is getting more attention with the playoffs, his goalie of the year nomination, and Gallant’s campaign going viral. That he’s going to be single actually plays well into the campaign.”

Magnus frowned before he could filter his reaction.

Izzy rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Alec is still very much single,” Magnus said, that declaration cutting at him more than he wanted to admit. “He and I aren’t officially anything.”

“Give me a fucking break, Magnus. The two of you are unbelievably frustrating. You know that, right?” Izzy took a bite of her croissant and elegantly slumped as if she was melting into the chair. “Oh my god, this jam is incredible.”

Magnus smiled. “I am an expert on revenge condiments. Now, tell me about the organization You Can Play. I saw the name in your plan but I don’t recognize it.”

“It was formed years ago as an LGBTQ athlete organization working with straight allies. Alec has always supported them—it’s officially part of the league—but we need to start gradually upping his involvement as part of his re-branding. They have a clinic happening in Pittsburgh that I’ve signed him up for while he’s out there this week. If we could get at least one more Angels player there with him, it would be best.”

“I’m sure Jace would agree to do it.”

“Probably.” Izzy shrugged. “But I don’t have any ties to him or his agency.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Jace is Alexander’s best friend.”

“Jace _is_ Alec’s best friend and he’s been around since I was a kid, but it was always in the context of hockey. Which means lots of time together on the ice and on the road, but never really at home. Alec has always kept those two parts of his life very separate to protect himself. I don’t actually know Jace that well.”

Hockey and his family were the two most important things to Alec. To think that Alec had purposefully kept them separate to maintain a secret he never should have had to keep at all…? It was heartbreaking.

“If Alec asks him, he’ll say yes,” Magnus said around the ache building in his chest. He swallowed and pursed his lips, the taste of what he was about to ask already leaving a bitterness in his mouth. “Isabelle, I need your professional opinion on what our chances are of Morgenstern actually taking Alec’s sexual orientation public.”

Izzy set her croissant down and pushed the plate away, leaning forward. “Let’s break this down. Sebastian is focused on two things: his money and getting clients to return to his firm. Alec has visibility—which is growing every day—and Sebastian has leverage over Alec. You have influence on Alec. Just how much is something Sebastian is guessing on, but he’s making a pretty accurate assumption. And now Sebastian has leverage over you.”

Magnus thought that through. “That is a painfully accurate summary.”

“I don’t know if you and Alec talked about this, but I can’t see him giving in. I just can’t. I know it’s a decision that both of you have to make, but if you ask him to comply with what Sebastian is demanding I think Alec will walk away from you too.”

“Isabelle,” Magnus said in a quiet voice. “I realize you and I are still learning about each other outside of our professional responsibilities—and the last conversation we had about this was under stressful circumstances—but I won’t give in to him either. That’s why I’m asking you for your professional opinion on pushing the limits with him, or giving a flat out refusal.”

Izzy straightened in her seat. “You want to know how much time you have and what Sebastian may do if you won’t cooperate?”

Magnus nodded.

“Okay. Worst case scenario is that Sebastian drops the story into major media outlets without warning. IE and the Angels will take a major PR hit. Alec’s life will be overturned, and so will yours. The biggest consequences will be for you and Alec—and we’re talking potentially career-ending repercussions for both of you.”

Magnus’ stomach churned. “I am not a fan of that option.”

“But”—Izzy paused, a small smile changing the set of her features—“if Sebastian does that, he’s also outing himself.”

“What do you mean?”

Izzy leaned forward, settling her hands around Magnus’ forearm. Her excitement was palpable. “You have the photos he gave you. Emails with date and time stamps. Witnesses that can corroborate his presence in IE’s building—”

Magnus sucked in a surprised breath. Why hadn’t he thought of this already? “And security records as well.”

Izzy nodded emphatically. “You and Alec could file charges against him for blackmail or extortion and there would be a good chance he’d be convicted of something. Whether or not he would serve any time is up for debate, but his firm would likely crumble with him.”

“You have my undivided and rapt attention. Go on.”

“Sebastian has to know that you have some leverage over him. He’s too smart _not_ to realize that he was leaving that trail. Which means he’s banking—literally—on both of you being too scared of the consequences to make any other kind of choice. He gains something if you agree, remains neutral if you don’t push it, and loses if you give him a flat out refusal and decide to go the cops.”

“He’s volatile. I agree with you that he’s intelligent and knows what he’s doing, but he also has a temper. I witnessed only a hint of it when he came to see me, but it was enough. We’re not talking about a stable man here.”

“Has he tried to contact you again?”

Magnus shook his head.

Izzy tipped her chin up, back straightening. “Then my professional opinion is not to do anything at all right now. We have defensive and offensive plans in place and it doesn’t make sense for Sebastian to fuck with Alec when his star is on the rise. We ride it out for now, and don’t force his hand. We wait for Sebastian to make his next move.”

“While Alec lives every day in fear?” Magnus couldn’t accept that. “There has to be something else we can do.”

Izzy clasped her coffee cup with both hands and took a drink, gaze boldly locking to Magnus’ eyes. Magnus was immediately suspicious.

The Lightwood siblings were so different, despite their shared upbringing. When Alec was deciding how much of the truth he was going to tell Magnus, he would scan Magnus’ face, lips parted—as if he was playing out every possible conversation in his head without saying one word.

Izzy wasn’t testing out any scenarios in her head, though. She simply wasn’t going to offer Magnus anything.

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Isabelle. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t know what—”

“Isabelle,” Magnus repeated.

Izzy pursed her lips. “There _is_ something else we’re doing. But Alec can’t know about it. Not yet.”

“I haven’t lied to him yet and I won’t start now,” Magnus asserted. “I’m asking you to respect that.”

“I figured. Which is why Max and I were going to keep it between the two of us.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow at the mention of Max. When Izzy had said “we” he’d assumed that meant her and her colleagues at Alicante. “Perhaps it’s better if you stop talking here.”

“Just…trust me. We’ve got his back, Magnus.”

“I have no doubt of that. I’m more worried about the risks to you and Max.”

Izzy scoffed. “There is no risk great enough to keep Max and me from protecting our brother.”

Magnus frowned. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

“It will be fine, _mijo_ ,” Izzy dismissed. Before Magnus could protest, Izzy had set down her cup and was reaching for her purse. “So, I was thinking about going by the arena to talk to Alec. A business meeting to go over some of this stuff since he refuses to leave the arena once he’s there on game day. You want to join me?”

Izzy was becoming very skilled, very fast, in knowing exactly how to distract Magnus. Merely the thought of seeing Alec in person appreciably brightened the outlook for Magnus’ day.

“There’s nothing I’d love more.”

 

****

 

Alec hunched over the table in the arena cafeteria and tried to force as much food down his throat as fast as he could. He was supposed to be fueling himself with calories for tonight’s game, but the flavorless vegetables and grilled chicken on his plate weren’t exactly increasing his appetite. That he couldn’t talk to Jace—who was sitting across the table from him—with his mouth full was a benefit, at least. Especially since all Jace wanted to do was talk about Magnus.

Specifically, Magnus and sex.

“You really haven’t”—Jace jabbed his fork into the air in a stabbing motion that made Alec sympathetic for all of Jace’s past, current, and future sexual partners—“you know?”

Heat infused Alec’s cheeks, but he merely shook his head and kept chewing.

Jace glared at him. “So you didn’t take my advice.”

Alec rolled his eyes.

“Okay, since you’re not interested in listening to me, I know you two have talked about hooking up…. But maybe you holding back means you shouldn’t. Just because you’re attracted to him doesn’t mean you have to act on it.”

Really? Jace giving him advice on holding back?

Alec lifted one eyebrow in response.

Jace huffed out a laugh. “Point taken.” He was still staring at Alec, though. Clearly he planned on waiting on an audible response.

Alec swallowed his bland food and gave in. Apparently Jace wasn’t going to let this subject drop. He set his fork down and took a swig of water before answering. “Sex isn’t the only thing I want from him. I actually like spending time with him. I like him as a _person_.”

That just seemed to confuse Jace more. Jace pushed at the potatoes on his plate, his brow scrunched and hair flopping over his eyes. “How do you know when it’s supposed to be more? I mean, you ever think that with all of this shit going on that maybe the two of you aren’t meant to be anything but friends?”

Alec _had_ wondered the same thing. His entire world had been turned upside down since he’d met Magnus, but he had to believe it would all be for a good reason. Soon. In the meantime, it felt like the tight control he’d had on every aspect of his life was slipping out of his grasp. As if his life had been distinctly defined before—as solid and immutably unchanging as bedrock—only for him to clench so tightly to it that he was discovering that rock was sandstone not granite and the tighter he tried to hold on the more it crumbled.

Alec stabbed his fork into the chicken breast on his plate. “Maybe it’s not ‘meant to be.’ But I wasn’t meant to be a professional hockey player either, right?” Alec chuckled and sat back, stretching his legs under the table. “You remember how bad I was in the beginning?”

Jace snorted. “Oh yeah.”

“But I fell in love with the game and I worked hard. I sacrificed to be better. And Magnus….” Alec peeked over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “I’m falling in love with him, Jace.”

It was the first time he’d said those words out loud, and as soon as they passed through his lips he realized just how true they were. He stared at Jace, his stomach tumbling with the thought. Warmth licking through his veins as his heart pounded. “Holy shit. I really am falling in love with him.”

Jace sat back in his chair, smirking. “And you still haven’t…?”

“Nope,” Alec said, lips popping around the word.

“But you both want to, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Alec groaned unhappily.

“I don’t get you, bro. But if he’s that important to you, then I’m with you.” Jace dropped his fork on his plate as he studied Alec. “Couldn’t you just fire him as your agent? That would solve one part of this mess.”

It was one possible path. One that Alec refused to give serious consideration. He sat up and went back to dicing his chicken and vegetables into miniscule pieces. He wasn’t hungry anymore, but he had to get it all in. It was just one of many things he was doing lately because he had to, not because he wanted to.

“I’m the biggest client he has,” Alec explained. “I fire him and everything he’s worked for in the last two months goes away.”

Jace shifted in his chair, eyes darting away from Alec long enough for Alec to know Jace was either going to lie to him or confess something.

“What?” He speared more food and waved the fork at Jace. “What’s that look?”

“About that….” Jace sat back and crossed his arms. “You’re not going to be his biggest client much longer. I’m signing with IE. With Magnus.”

That…. Alec hadn’t seen that development coming at all. He froze with his food partway to his mouth. “What?”

Jace sighed and leaned forward again. “I went and talked to Magnus a few weeks back—after that day he came to see you here. My agent is useless, and Magnus has done a lot for you in a short time. I want someone good like him. I told Magnus I didn’t want him to say anything to you until I’d made a final decision and had a chance to tell you myself. But, yeah, it’s final now. Magnus is meeting with my current agency this week to broker the transfer.”

“You’re serious?”

Jace nodded.

Alec chuckled. “Finally, you’re following me somewhere instead of me following you.”

“Whatever,” Jace dismissed. “IE has been good for you and I want in on that.”

“ _Magnus_ has been good for me,” Alec clarified. He wouldn’t have his contract with Gallant if it wasn’t for Magnus. Magnus was built to be an agent. He was great at his job….

A job that Magnus was putting at risk by choosing Alec.

Alec dropped his fork on his plate with a clank. He definitely couldn’t eat anymore today. “All of this shit that’s going on, though? His career is just as much on the line as mine is. I _could_ fire him. Magnus even said that he’s willing to sacrifice his career for me. But you know what? I need him in this negotiation with the Angels. No one will be able to handle them the way he will. And if Magnus and I are together, he can’t be my agent anymore.”

“So no…?” Jace made a crude gesture with his hands.

“No.”

“And no…?” Jace mimed another much lewder motion.

Alec felt a blush crawling up his cheeks even as the thought of being in a position like that with Magnus sent a shot of heat low in his belly.

“I’ve kissed him…but that’s it. Fuck. I do need to get laid. By _him_.” Alec pushed his plate away and scrubbed his hands over his hair. He needed to change the subject. “So what about you and Lydia? Or you and Clary? What’s going on with that?”

“That’s—” A redness began to appear on Jace’s cheeks that caught Alec off guard. “Things are confusing with all of that right now, alright? Can we not talk about it?”

Alec opened his mouth to respond then Kadir popped his head in the door. “Lightwood. Wayland. You have guests.”

 

****

 

Magnus fiddled with his cufflinks. There was a frown embedded into his face that he was very sure looked much like what Alec’s permanent facial expression had been when they first met.

Standing next to him in the player’s parking lot, Izzy started laughing.

Magnus grimaced even farther. “What exactly is there to laugh about right now?”

“You’re nervous! I never thought I would see the great Magnus Bane be nervous over seeing a guy.”

“A. Alexander is not merely a guy. B. We’re out in the open here. I think I have a right to be on edge about any time Alec and I are in a public place together for now. And three, I am…anticipatory.”

“It will be fine, Magnus.”

“You’re saying that a lot for things that could distinctly not be fine.”

Izzy rolled her eyes and huffed.

The door from the arena to the parking lot burst open and Jace sauntered out, flicking his golden hair off his forehead as he stepped into the sun. Alec was right behind him—wearing track pants that sat low in his hips and one of the tightly fitting tanks he seemed to favor when he was off the ice. Magnus’ fingers twitched with the immediate, overwhelming need to touch. He couldn’t help but think about Alec waking up in Magnus’ bed in a similar outfit. About what laid beneath that thin material. People all over the world knew just as well as Magnus what Alec looked like under those clothes, but no one else had the privilege of Alec undressing himself at their request.

As if that thought wasn’t enough to decimate Magnus, the smile that stretched across Alec’s face when he caught eyes with Magnus was catastrophic.

Izzy nudged him. “See? More than fine.”

Magnus swallowed, choked out a cough in an elegant response. He was distinctly not fine. Having Alec in this close of proximity was becoming dangerous for his health.

Izzy was laughing even harder when Alec hugged her, but Alec must have been used to sudden outbursts of laughter from his sister because he merely smiled and focused on Magnus. “Hey.”

Magnus heart lurched. As is it was leaping out of his chest in a desperate attempt to be closer to Alec.

If Alec could set Magnus off-kilter just by _walking_ and saying _one word_ , then Magnus had to bring out the heavy artillery. Magnus sniffed and ran his eyes over Alec unabashedly. “You look very…clean, Alexander.”

Bright red spots popped up on Alec’s cheeks, but he held Magnus’ gaze. “I took two showers this morning.”

Magnus wheezed.

“You okay there, bro?” Jace asked as he clapped Magnus on the back.

“Fine,” Magnus croaked out.

Izzy hooked her arm through his, a wide, radiant smile on her lips.

Alec ran a hand over his beard then widened his stance—all brash confidence, even with the blush staining his cheeks. “Anyway, Izzy, you know Jace. And you two”—Alec waved a hand between Jace and Magnus, the sun glinting off the silver bracelet on Alec’s wrist—“you know each other better than I thought.”

“I told him I was signing with you,” Jace explained.

“You’re signing with Magnus?” Izzy asked.

Magnus covered Izzy’s hand with his. “Of course he is, sunshine. He wanted the best.”

Jace laughed. “I’m not the only one apparently who wants—”

Magnus whipped his head around as the sounds of people shouting came from the entrance to the player’s lot. There was a charcoal gray Bentley at the guard’s station and the driver was draped out the window, a finger pointed at the guard.

Izzy leaned forward, looking around Magnus, and Jace and Alec turned with the sound.

Izzy tensed next to him. “Is that—?”

“Mom.” Alec’s jaw tightened and he took off in a jog for the security gate. But instead of approaching the car, Alec waved over the other security guard inside the lot to talk to him.

Jace ran his fingers through his hair and crossed his arms, taking a step closer to Izzy. “I haven’t seen Maryse in probably ten years.”

“Count yourself lucky,” Izzy said through clenched teeth.

Magnus shifted uncomfortably. “Should I….”

Izzy shook her head. “No, wait to see what Alec wants to do.”

Alec had his hands on his hips as he talked, glancing every few words at the scene that was unfolding outside the lot. Maryse had gotten out of her car and was standing on the other side of the fence, arms crossed on her chest, glaring at Alec as the guard outside the gate tried to convince her to get back into her car.

Even if Magnus had had neutral feelings about the Lightwood matriarch, his instinct to protect Alec and Izzy would’ve kicked in with the rising tension. But as it stood, Magnus didn’t want her anywhere near any of her kids. He was sure no good could come of her being here.

Magnus watched as Alec nodded, then gripped the security guard’s shoulder—a tight smile on Alec’s face—and the guard waved at the man outside the gate to let her in.

“Shit,” Izzy muttered and let go of Magnus to smooth her hands down her skirt.

Alec met Maryse’s car as it slid into the lot, jaw clenching as he talked to her through the open window then gestured to an open spot.

Izzy’s shoulders snapped back and her features went hard. Magnus had seen Izzy enough in professional situations to know that the warm woman he knew could put on a detached persona when she needed to, but this wasn’t her professional facade. Izzy’s jaw was grinding, her cheekbones sculpted in sharp relief. She was restrained fury.

“How long has it been since you last saw her?” Magnus asked Izzy.

“Three years—when I picked Max up for his sixteenth birthday. She didn’t even show for Max’s high school graduation.” Izzy’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “Or my wedding.”

“And Alexander?”

“He’s seen her because of Max, but I don’t think he’s talked to her since the night my parents confronted him about Raj.”

Magnus fisted his hand and glanced at Jace. Without a word, he and Jace moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Izzy.

Alec didn’t wait for Maryse to get out of her car. He turned his back on her and started walking toward their group. Whether Alec realized it or not, he was forcing Maryse to meet him on his terms. Magnus was proud.

“Did she say anything?” Izzy asked as Alec got closer.

Alec’s face was drawn. “Just that we needed to talk.”

“You don’t have to talk to her,” Magnus said.

“If I don’t she’ll make even more of a scene and I can’t—” Alec looked around the lot. Most of the spaces were still empty since the players weren’t due to officially arrive until closer to game time. Magnus glanced at his cell and realized the players could start arriving at any time, though.

“You can’t have that happen here,” Magnus finished for him.

Alec met his eyes and Magnus saw fear there. Fear of being exposed. Fear Morgenstern had placed there.

“I’m not going anywhere, Alexander,” he said quietly.

Alec took a step closer to Magnus, his chest rising with a deep inhale as he gave Magnus a clipped nod.

Maryse had gotten out of her car and was stomping her way over—arms at her side, hands balled into fists, and her back ramrod straight. She didn’t even glance at her daughter before she started in on Alec. “What have you done, Alec?”

Alec stared her down, his jaw set. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that. There’s a whole hell of a lot of things I’ve done since I last saw you.”

“I received a call this morning from a friend. He told me you’re planning on making your… _lifestyle_ public.”

Magnus cringed.

Alec stood taller, clasping his hands behind his back. “So what if I am? My life isn’t your business anymore.”

“You’ve lost your way. And it’s a parent’s job to ensure their child is on the right path.”

Magnus could see Alec’s retort on his lips. But it was one Alec wouldn’t dare say out loud here— _It’s a parent’s job to disown me because I’m gay?_

“I’ve made my own path without your help,” Alec spat out. “I really don’t need it now.”

“Without me?” Maryse laughed, and the sound made Magnus’ skin prickle with dread. “Who do you think made sure you had an agent when you needed one the most?”

Alec paled, visibly shrinking as if all his confidence had been sucked out of his body. “You were the one who sent Hodge Starkweather to me?”

“He’s an old friend from school. Do you really think any other agent would’ve been interested in you otherwise?” Maryse sneered. It was an ugly half-smile of teeth and self-satisfaction as she glanced at Magnus. “Except for this one, apparently.”

Alec’s eyes darted to Magnus. “Where did you hear that?”

Maryse leveled a steely gaze on Alec. “Valentine Morgenstern is also an old friend of mine.”

Izzy made an audible noise as she sucked in a shocked breath.

Alec took a step forward, towering over his mother, every muscle in his body taut as a bowstring. “Your ‘old friends’ stole over _four million dollars_ from me. And Valentine’s son is now threatening all of your kids, not just me!”

“Is that what you think is happening here?” Maryse tilted her head, arrogance rolling off her. “Valentine and his son are protecting you from _yourself_. I told Valentine years ago what you think you are, and he’s protecting your money out of loyalty to me. Every single dollar of it is safe in an off-shore account, but now you won’t have access to it again until you agree to stop this…foolishness.”

“You are insane.” Alec barked out a derisive laugh, his voice going cold. “We’re done.”

Maryse examined Magnus with a callous gaze that made Magnus shrink with apprehension. “Is he even here legally? Don’t fool yourself—he’s using you. I won’t allow you to risk your career for this— this _whore_.”

All oxygen vacated Magnus’ lungs in a rushed exhale, his insides twisting as if she’d physically assaulted him.

Izzy’s hand flew up immediately, but Alec gripped her wrist. “Don’t, Izzy. It’s what she wants.”

Before Magnus could regain enough breath to defend himself, Alec strode forward—putting himself between Maryse and the rest of them. A wall of ice-hardened muscle and steely resolve. “I won’t allow you to speak about Magnus that way. Get out.”

Magnus glanced nervously at Jace. His mismatched eyes were focused on something behind Maryse, looking toward the street.

An electric panic itched at Magnus’ skin as the gate to the lot clanged open for players arriving for the game. He felt utterly powerless to stop this. All he wanted to do was protect Alec and Izzy. But it was because of him, because of _his_ past, that Maryse was here at all. He didn’t want to walk away from Alec or give up the friendship he was building with both Izzy and Max, but that seemingly innocent flame that had sparked to life in LA was now an inferno, threatening to consume them all. And Magnus wasn’t the water to bring it back under control, he was the gasoline.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Maryse,” Jace said coolly, stepping forward to Alec’s side.

Maryse ignored the cars sliding past her. “It’s my and your father’s duty to protect the Lightwood name. There are other methods we can use to force your hand.”

Izzy broke away from Alec’s grip and surged forward. “The only reason the Lightwood name has any honor is because of Alec.”

Maryse’s eyes slid off Alec and evaluated Izzy with a grimace. “You still haven’t grasped what honor looks like.”

Magnus startled at that. He’d expected Maryse to be callous to Alec, but not to Izzy as well.

“Get. _Out_ ,” Alec repeated with more force. He waved the guard over, calling out, “Make sure she leaves and is _never_ allowed inside here or the arena again.”

“Come on, Maryse,” Jace said. He put an arm between Alec and Maryse, silently urging her to step back. “Let’s do this quietly.”

Maryse glared at her children then whipped around without another word, Jace following her. Alec was watching their retreating forms, but Magnus was studying Alec carefully.

He couldn’t comfort Alec here. Couldn’t say anything that would tip off Alec to the players that were now out of their cars and milling around watching.

Magnus didn’t just feel powerless, he was. And he hated it.

“Alexander….” he tried.

Alec faced Magnus, his lips tugged into a deep frown. “Not right now. I— I can’t.”

Magnus winced at the defeat-laced pain in Alec’s voice.

“Go back inside,” Magnus urged in a quiet voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “The game tonight is far more important than her.”

Alec looked at him then—really looked—taking a step toward Magnus that was simultaneously too close and yet not close enough. “ _You_ are more important than her or the game.”

The quiet force behind Alec’s words was like a physical embrace. Magnus shivered despite the warmth of the sun, could only bring himself to nod in response.

Alec surveyed another line of cars entering the lot. “But I can’t right now. Shit.”

“I know,” Magnus managed to get out around the tightening in his chest. “Go, Alec.”

Alec hesitated for a beat longer, then raked his hand over his beard and swore under his breath as he retreated toward the arena door.

Izzy settled her hand on Magnus’ arm, peering up at him. “I’ve got him, Magnus.”

Magnus watched Izzy catch up to Alec, circling her arm around his waist, then Alec leaning into her, kissing the top of her head.

Izzy was allowed to comfort her brother.

Allowed to pass through that door with Alec without question.

Magnus wasn’t.

The bang of the arena door shutting behind Alec was like the decisive clap of a judge’s gavel, punctuating punishment for something that shouldn’t have been a crime at all.

The callous truth of the sound chilled Magnus to the bone.

 

****

 

Alec broke away from Izzy as they entered the arena, storming ahead of her. He was furious at his mother. In disbelief that she not only knew Valentine Morgenstern, but considered him a friend. Enraged that she was working with Valentine to trap Alec into a living lie.

She had insulted Izzy, put Max’s future at risk, and vindictively torn into Magnus. It didn’t even matter what she was trying to do to Alec right now, that she was hurting the people he loved made her actions unforgivable. Just like Sebastian, it didn’t matter how much she threatened him, he would never give in to that…callous, heartless, cruel—

_Fuck!_

He had no idea how to fight. Where to begin. How to solve this or how to protect Izzy, Max, and Magnus. His mother had always wanted him to be a soldier and now here he was, ready for battle, yet unarmed and completely unprepared.

His teammates were going to be relying on him tonight to shut his personal life out of his thoughts and focus only on the game, but he had no idea how he was going to accomplish even that.

He was defenseless when it was supposed to be his job—as a goalie, as a big brother, _fuck_ , as a potential boyfriend—to defend.

“Alec, stop,” Izzy finally called out. She raced after him and grabbed his arm. “We have to talk about this.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Izzy.” Alec glanced at the players walking past them in the hallway. “And here is definitely not the place.”

“You may not want to,” Izzy chided him in a whisper, “but there are people out there who are talking about _you_ right now. Working to fuck you and Magnus over.”

Magnus.

Alec’s stomach rolled at the realization of just how much he’d fucked up. He’d known it would only cause pain if he dragged Magnus into his life when he wasn’t out, but he’d had no idea it would be like this. He’d seen Magnus cringing as his mom shot auditory bullets at Magnus. Alec had tried to shield him and take the brunt of the attack, but Magnus had been wounded in the crossfire. That much Alec knew without a doubt.

He was furious at himself for not being able to protect Magnus.

“Alec,” Izzy insisted, bringing his attention back to her. “We have to talk about this.”

“Fine,” he gritted out.

Alec looked down one of the side hallways then motioned for Izzy to follow him. He opened the door to an equipment room and Izzy followed him inside.

Once the door was shut he braced his feet and crossed his arms. “I’m here. Let’s talk about mom.”

“Mom? I don’t give a shit about mom. We left _Magnus_ out there.”

Alec tensed, his voice dropping into a near growl. “You think I’m okay with that? I didn’t have a choice and you know that. _You’re_ the one who told me I needed to stay away from him!”

Izzy was immediately in his face, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Don’t attack me when all I’ve done is defend you. _I_ don’t deserve your anger.”

Shit.

Alec took a step back and held up his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Izzy planted her hands on her hips. “You better be.”

“I know we left Magnus out there, Iz, and I—” Alec slashed his hand through the air and started to pace. “I hate everything about this…. But I don’t know what to do to fix any of it.”

“You want to know what I think?”

Alec bit at his lip and nodded.

“The first thing you need to do is call Magnus. Make sure you’re both on the same page.”

Alec dismissed that thought completely as he continued to pace. “What do you mean? Of course we’re on the same page.”

“Are you sure about that?” Izzy challenged. “Have you really talked about what you want to do with Sebastian? And now our mother is threatening you too? Jesus, Alec. I know you’re all about deflecting shit, but come on. If you and Magnus are going to have any shot at all, then you need to know where he’s coming from.”

Alec stilled at that. Did she know something he didn’t? “You think he doesn’t want the same things I do?”

“Alec,” Izzy drew out in a near whine. “I’m not the one you need to answer that. Call him. _Ahora_. Take Simon’s office—it will be safe to talk there.”

Alec sucked in a deep breath. At least he had something to do instead of being helpless. Just the thought of hearing Magnus’ voice made him calmer.

“Okay.”

Izzy held out her arms and Alec wrapped her in a hug, resting his cheek on her hair.

“I love you, _mi hermano_. And I’m beginning to love Magnus too. I just want the two of you to be happy.”

“Me too, Iz. All of that.”

Izzy squeezed him tighter at that.

It wasn’t the outright admission he’d given to Jace today, but it was close enough. Every step he took towards acknowledging Magnus’ role in his life was an important piece of accepting all of who he was.

“If he asks,” Izzy said, “you can tell him that even after what our mom said I haven’t changed my mind.”

Alec drew back. “What does that mean—that you haven’t changed your mind?”

“Magnus and I had breakfast this morning. We discussed Sebastian and the details of your coming out plan. What just happened out there doesn’t change anything about what I think you should do.”

“And that is?”

Izzy shook her head fondly. “Just talk to Magnus, you stubborn idiot.”

Alec had to chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it.”

Alec held the door open for her and when they reached the main corridor, Izzy turned to the right instead of heading toward Simon’s office.

“Aren’t you coming in to see Simon?” he asked.

“I have to go home and get ready for the game, then pick up Max.” Izzy grinned. “Plus Simon has his own pre-game rituals. He has to get in the zone too.”

For the second time in minutes, and despite the tension that lingered, Alec had to laugh again. “Love you, _mi hermana_ ,” he called out.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she responded with a smile. “I got it.”

Alec waved to her then tracked through the hallways to the zamboni room. Both of the doors were shut, so Alec knocked, glancing at the time on his phone. He had less than thirty minutes before he had to be in the locker room to start getting dressed.

Simon swung the door open and beamed. “Alec! You never come by on game day! What’s up?”

“Can I come in?”

Simon pushed his glasses up with the wrench he had in his hand. “Yeah, of course. You could’ve just walked in, I wouldn’t mind.”

He stepped back and Alec entered, surveying the room. Simon was right. Alec never came down this way when he was in the arena. His brother-in-law was one of the kindest people he knew—kind, but weird—and Alec didn’t spend nearly enough time with just him.

“So really—” Simon pressed as he shut the door. “Is everything okay?”

Alec huffed. “Define ‘okay.’”

Simon’s brow furrowed. “You look like you need to sit down.”

Alec slumped into the desk chair and reclined back, closing his eyes and running his hands over his face. There was a series of clicks and pops, each one like a taser to his already fried nerves. When he opened his eyes again, Simon was perched on the edge of the desk, his wrench abandoned for a Voltron toy that he was clicking together.

He was about to snap at Simon about the sound when he realized exactly what Simon was holding. “You took it out of the box?”

Simon shrugged. “I told Tessa I was willing to test it to see if helped you win. And it does look kind of badass sitting on a shelf. Plus, now I can play with it. I totally don’t pretend the zamboni is one of the lions. Activate interlock! Dynotherms connected! Infracells up! Mega thrusters are go!”

Alec laughed.

Simon was so kind. And _so_ weird.

“Thanks, Si.”

Simon’s face lit up. “You’re welcome. You want to tell me what’s up now?”

“I need to talk to Magnus and out there—” He furrowed his brow. “It isn’t— Do you mind if I call him in here?”

“Go right ahead. I’m just doing some prep stuff. I’ll mostly be in with the zamboni—that I definitely haven’t named The Blue Lion—but I may have to come in here to get tools.”

“It’s okay,” Alec reassured him. “I trust you.”

It was like Alec had handed a mint-in-box Voltron to Simon.

Simon beamed. “That means a lot to me, Alec.”

Come to think of it, that was exactly what Alec needed to do. Buy Simon every mint-in-box vintage Voltron toy he could afford. His brother-in-law deserved it.

“Anyway, I need to talk to Magnus because there’s some new…stuff that happened with my mom.”

“No offense, but your mom scares the hell out of me. I only met her, like, twice, and that was enough for a lifetime.”

“I take absolutely no offense from that,” Alec said seriously. “Anyway, I don’t mind if you listen in, but could you do me a favor and give me a heads up if anyone else comes in while I’m talking to Magnus?”

“Yeah, of course. Make yourself at home. As Izzy would say, _mi casa es su casa_.”

Simon clapped Alec on the shoulder and set Voltron back on the shelf then picked up his wrench again and left Alec to it.

Alec dug his cell out of his pocket, texted Jace to let him know where he was, and hit the button to Facetime Magnus. It was only a few short seconds before Magnus picked up.

“Alexander.”

His name on Magnus’ lips never failed to leave Alec a bit breathless.

“Hey. I was hoping you had time to talk.”

The picture blurred then refocused on Magnus sitting on a set of stairs and putting his earbuds in. “I always have time for you.”

Guilt churned in Alec’s gut. Even after the ugliness Magnus had just been subjected to, Magnus was still treating him the same, looking at him with the same adoration.

How had Alec gotten so lucky?

“I meant what I said, Magnus—you’re way more important to me than her or this game.”

Magnus seemed to be considering that. He gazed at Alec as if he was memorizing every inch of Alec’s appearance. Alec didn’t know what it was that Magnus saw that made him break into a smile, but there Magnus was on his cell screen—a confident smirk on his lips when he finally responded. “I’m beginning to think you may be a bit enamored with me, Alexander.”

“More than a bit,” he admitted without hesitation. It was one of the only things he was unequivocally sure of right now. “After today and just _everything_ — I can’t believe you’re sticking around for any of it. For _me_.”

Magnus’ fingers went to his ear cuff. “I may be more than a bit enamored with you as well.”

Alec knew the grin on his face was dopey and patently obvious, but he was powerless to stop it.

Magnus cleared his throat. “I’m assuming you didn’t call from Simon’s office just to talk about how besotted we apparently are we each other.”

“I wish I was.” Alec rested his feet on the edge of the couch, slouching into the chair and settling the phone on his legs so he could adjust the bracelet on his wrist. “Izzy cornered me after all of…that and reminded me that we haven’t really talked about any of it. I’d like to hear what you’re thinking about how we should handle all of this. We’ve spoken since Sebastian’s threat— A lot— But more about other…stuff. Not that.”

There was an opening for an innuendo there, but Magnus just nodded. “Your sister’s professional opinion is that we don’t do anything.”

Simon popped his head in the room and pointed at the toolbox next to the desk. Alec waved him in.

“She said to tell you that she hasn’t changed her mind,” Alec said, continuing to talk to Magnus. “Despite mom’s threats.”

“I haven’t changed my mind either.”

“So what do you want to do?” Alec asked. “Izzy didn’t tell me.”

“Nothing,” Magus said simply. “We don’t provoke him, but we don’t give an answer. We don’t respond at all until we’re forced to—and even then, I don’t think we should agree to any of his terms. There’s likely to be consequences, but I will _never_ be okay with what he’s asking us to do.”

_We._

_Us._

Those words were all Alec had needed to hear.

Alec breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

“Of course we are, darling,” Magnus said as if it was the only possible answer.

Simon craned his neck so Magnus could see him on the screen. “Hey, Magnus!”

“Simon,” Magnus said warmly. “I shall miss your dulcet serenades tonight.”

“Thanks for lying to make me smile. It’ll be weird tonight without you and Clary here.”

Alec looked at Simon. “Why isn’t Clary coming to the game?”

But Magnus answered instead. “Tessa said there wasn’t any positive correlation with Clary being in the arena, so Clary offered to keep me company for the evening. Her mother will be joining us as well.”

“Say hi to Jocelyn for me, okay?” Simon asked.

“Naturally,” Magnus obliged.

Simon waved and headed back into the zamboni room.

“Have you met Jocelyn, Alexander?”

Alec nodded. “At Izzy’s wedding. But that’s it. I’ve been on the road or with the team anytime she was over at Izzy’s for dinner.”

“I’ll have to properly introduce you. I met her before Clary, and Jocelyn embraced me as family from the very beginning. I’m quite sure she would welcome you with open arms as well.”

Clary talked about her mom a lot—an artist who always had paint under her fingernails and a smile on her lips, even when she had a brush clamped between her teeth. That she was fiercely protective of the people she loved. Magnus’ description of her fit with all of that. It was the way a mother _should_ be.

The guilt and the anger welled up again. Alec had to squeeze his eyes shut before anything threatened to spill out. “My mother, Magnus— What she said about you…. I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Alec opened his eyes and all he saw on Magnus’ face was…understanding. Compassion.

“She may have given birth to you and your siblings, but it’s clear that you, Isabelle, and Max are who you are because of each other, not her.”

“Still—”

“No arguments, Alexander,” Magnus cut in softly. “You’re not responsible for her or her vitriol. You didn’t just stand up for Isabelle and me, you stood _between_ her and us. That couldn’t have been easy.”

It hadn’t been.

This was his mother—the woman who was supposed to love him unconditionally. She’d never been that type of a mother, but until today there had been a part of him that hoped that maybe she would miss Alec’s presence in her life. That maybe she would change because a relationship with her children was more important than her image. He knew now that would never be the case.

He was just as hurt as he was angry.

“It wasn’t,” he admitted out loud, because he could say these things to Magnus. He could admit to being wounded and know that Magnus wouldn’t think less of him.

“There aren’t many people who have ever done that for me,” Magnus said with a sad smile. “Thank you.”

Alec’s heart clenched painfully. “Anything for you, Magnus.”

It was a sentiment he’d heard out of Magnus’ lips—different words, but with the same intent—and now he understood the depth of what it really meant.

There was no doubt. Alec would do _anything_ for this man.

Magnus inhaled a stuttering breath, his eyes locked to Alec, and Alec swore he could see the exact moment that Magnus made the choice to believe what Alec was saying to him.

“I hate to continuing talking about this, Alexander, but how credible is the threat from your mother? I had no idea she was connected to Valentine.”

That truth made Alec physically sick. “I didn’t either. You know what she does for a living, right?”

“One of the bios in Hodge’s files mentioned that both her and your father are attorneys.”

Alec blew out a long breath. “She’s not just a lawyer. She’s career Army—one of the high-level JAGs. I don’t know what she meant exactly by other ways they could force my hand…but if anyone has the connections and power to fuck with me, then it’s her.”

Magnus grimaced. “Do you mean ‘they’ as in Valentine and her, or her and your father?”

“I don’t know that either.” That admission bothered him more than he expected. “My father is serving his fifth term in the prosecutor’s office. He’ll be up for re-election next year, and me outing myself won’t fit with his conservative, family values image either. So ‘they’ could mean any combination of my parents, Valentine, and Sebastian.”

“You know….”

Alec startled. He hadn’t even realized Simon was back in the office until he’d started speaking.

Simon crouched down next to the chair so Magnus could see him too. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but it sounds like it’s time to douse the vampires with holy water at high noon.”

Alec wasn’t following Simon’s logic train, but that wasn’t anything new.

“What?” Alec scoffed.

“Your parents? And the Morgensterns? Ok so, they’re powerful—nearly indestructible and hard to metaphorically kill, right? But like vampires, it will only take a bit of light to send them scurrying underground in fear. And direct sun will obliterate them.”

Alec froze as he looked at Simon in disbelief.

“Seriously? Haven’t you ever seen the Blade movies?” Simon continued. “I mean, he only had, like, an ultraviolet flashlight and that did the trick…. But all joking aside guys, shining one powerful light onto their shady activities could incinerate them all.”

“Holy shit,” Alec breathed out.

Was Simon saying that all they had to do was expose the Morgenstern’s and his parents to one truth they couldn’t escape from?

It couldn’t be that simple.

Could it?

 

****

 

Magnus took in the scene on his phone screen, feeling just as surprised as Alec looked. Apparently the zamboni rockstar was also highly attuned to intricacies of the human condition. Well, that was a plot twist.

“He has a valid point, Alexander. Simon’s metaphorical sun is one thing they fear more than anything else—the truth.”

Simon grinned as he gave Magnus two thumbs up and stood again, disappearing from view.

Alec’s gaze slid back to Magnus, his lips still parted and brows scrunched together. “So how do we use that to our advantage?”

Whatever Izzy and Max were working on could be part of the solution, but Izzy was right—Alec couldn’t be weighed down with those considerations right now. “Isabelle and I will continue to work on that. As I said last night when we talked after the event, your only focus at the moment should be hockey.”

Alec’s cheeks tinged pink, but because of their last Facetime session Magnus recognized the flirtatious intent on Alec’s face before Alec even spoke. “I vaguely remember you saying something like that…. But there are a whole lot of other things that I remember much more clearly from last night.”

Magnus unsuccessfully attempted to hold back a smirk. “I do enjoy Facetime much more when you’re in your bed, Alexander.”

“I’m still in the room!” Simon yelled from somewhere off-screen.

Magnus chuckled. “I should probably let you go now. You need to get dressed for the game.”

Simon’s face appeared in the corner of the screen again. “Bye, Magnus.”

“Protect my goalie’s masculine knees tonight, Simon.”

Simon saluted him. “Will do.”

When Simon was gone again, Magnus capitalized on the quiet moment to gaze at Alec.

His shoulders were back, elbows planted on the arms of the chair, biceps in cut definition. His fingers were fiddling with the silver bracelet on his wrist, and lips reddened from biting at them nervously as they’d talked. His hair was mussed and his beard neatly trimmed—as it always was on game day.

They were less than an hour away from the puck dropping on the Angels first game of the second round of the playoffs. Alec was going into this game as a goaltender of the year nominee—an accolade and yet more pressure to bear. The threat of injury and the potential for defeat loomed before every game, and the stakes would only continue to escalate.

Alec was fighting for his team’s survival in the playoffs…. Fighting to live his truth…. Fighting for Magnus.

Magnus desperately wanted to be there every step of the way with him, and it pained him that he couldn’t be there with Alec to wish him luck on the ice tonight.

“Take care of yourself tonight, Alexander.”

It wasn’t the exact words he wanted to say, but for right now it would have to be enough.

“You too, Magnus. Promise me I’ll see you soon?”

That was one promise Magnus wouldn’t hesitate to make. “As soon as I can.”

 

****

 

Alec clicked off the call with Magnus and took a deep breath. He wasn’t as furious anymore, wasn’t feeling the cut of his mother’s betrayal as deeply. Just _speaking_ with Magnus had managed to calm him down and comfort him.

How anyone could see something vile or unnatural in the connection he had with Magnus was beyond him.

It was his mother who didn’t understand love—not him.

The arena upstairs was coming alive, the pounding of footsteps and echoes of voices thundering above his head. The scent of overpriced greasy food drifted down the hallway. The temperature was dropping as the buildings massive coolers worked to maintain the perfect temperature for the ice. All of it was just as familiar as Magnus’ voice. Just as soothing.

Alec could feel himself shifting into his pre-game headspace.

There was a knock on the door in the zamboni room and Alec heard Simon moving around, then tools clattering to the ground and muffled swearing, all followed by the sound of a door opening.

“Lightwood in here?”

Alec recognized the voice and got up to head for the adjoining room.

“Raphael. Santiago. Raphael Santiago. Raph—” Simon cut off his own jumbled blubbering of Raphael’s name and looked over his shoulder at Alec. “That’s my wife Izzy’s brother Alec. Lightwood. Izzy and Alec Lightwood. Why do I keep saying names? I drive the zamboni. That’s a nice jacket. Am I still talking?”

Alec lifted a brow at the spectacle unfolding in front of him.

“It’s Raphael Santiago,” Simon supplied, his voice cracking when it went an octave too high. Simon coughed and stepped back. “You, uh, want to come in?”

“No,” Raphael responded immediately. He tugged at his lapels and eyed Simon suspiciously.

“I know Raphael, Simon,” Alec deadpanned. “We’ve been playing together for the last year.” Alec crossed the room and clapped Simon on the back. “Thanks for letting me use your office.”

“Yeah, no problem. Anytime. I mean, any of you, not just Alec. He’s my brother-in-law ‘cause I’m married. To his sister. But really, any of you can come here. It’s like one big extended hockey family, right?”

Raphael looked up at Alec. “Does he ever stop talking?”

Alec shrugged. “It’s part of his charm. I’ll see you later, Si.”

“Good luck tonight, Alec. And Raphael— Mr. Santiago,” Simon called out. As the door began to shut Alec heard Simon mumbling. “Holy shit, Raphael Santiago.”

Alec chuckled. “Apparently my brother-in-law is a fan of yours.”

“You expected it to be someone else, Lightwood?”

Alec rolled his eyes. “So not that I’m unhappy to see you, but what the hell are you doing looking for me here?”

“Coach, Wayland, and I were talking about the Penguins’ center in his office when Wayland realized what time it was, and that he still had to run up to will-call to drop off a ticket.” Raphael adjusted his cuffs. “He knew he’d have his ass handed to him if he told Coach to fetch. So instead, you got me, _mi amigo_.”

“Jace is aware that I’m a big boy, right? And that I can tell time on my own?”

“He said you were nervous.”

“I’m not.”

Raphael studied Alec with a calculated gaze. “You ready to stop pucks with your face?”

“Yep.”

Raphael cocked his head and one eyebrow. “You don’t look nervous to me.”

Alec laughed.

There was the booming of footsteps and Alec looked up to Jace barreling down the hallway at him. He yanked Alec to a stop. “You doing okay, buddy?” Jace asked.

Raphael just shook his head in exasperation and walked away.

“Not really,” Alec answered honestly. “But the game? I’m good.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

Jace searched his face. “You really are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am. Now can I dress, Captain?”

Jace clapped him on the back and they walked into the locker room.

Alec immediately lost himself in the time-consuming ritual of getting his equipment on. First, the under layer of sweat wicking garments followed by socks, jock, shorts, skates, leg pads, body armor, and last, his jersey. He’d followed the same pre-game routine for more than half his life.

There was over a hundred years of hockey tradition and the New York Blazing Angels had been a team for half of that time. Three generations of players had worn this team name on their jerseys and the owner was still the same one since the first time the Angels had hit the ice.

Alec held his mask in his hands, staring at the painted design that wrapped around the edges. The same traditional, generic design he’d worn all three years as an Angel. Following tradition—as both a hockey player and a first-born son—was what was expected of him.

He set his mask down and removed the bracelet from his wrist, running his fingertips over the artistic detail.

Traditional ideals versus modern.

Meticulously unpersonalized versus intimate.

He couldn’t think about how to reconcile any of that when his head had to be fully in the game…. But that’s exactly where his head needed to be. His teammates were counting on him. There were fans who had waited fifty years to see the Angels get to this point.

He placed the bracelet in his bag and put on his mask.

 

****

 

Magnus pushed the sleeves of Alec’s sweatshirt up his arms and stirred the pasta sauce simmering on the stove. Clary leaned against him and he wrapped his free arm around her waist.

“I caught up on the Puck Me group earlier. I can’t believe Tessa is at another show.”

“Unlike me, she loves Broadway. We’re all doing our part.” He looked down at his sweatshirt, then twirled his hand over her freshly dyed tresses. “And your hair looks just as fabulous as usual.”

“It’s been too long since we had a chance to do this,” Clary said. “I know I see you almost every day, but spending time out of the office—it’s different.”

“It is,” Magnus acknowledged with as much of a smile as he could muster.

He wasn’t okay with not being at the game tonight, despite that Alec and he had agreed that they shouldn’t do anything to provoke Morgenstern—and now Maryse. But since he couldn’t be inside the arena, he was grateful Clary had offered to keep him company. It would’ve been terribly depressing to watch the game alone. And really, he couldn’t ask for better company—it had been too long since he and Clary had spent time with each other outside of work. He wasn’t okay—still thrown by the feeling that there was so much more he needed to be doing than watching a game or making dinner—but he didn’t know what to do.

Magnus tipped his head toward the TV where the coverage was still in pre-game commentary. “Thank you for offering to stay here with me tonight, since I can’t be there.”

“Of course, babes.” She popped onto her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. She picked up her glass of wine and cradled it in her hands, turning to lean on the counter so she could face him. “Do you want to talk about what happened with Maryse?”

He really didn’t, but, “I don’t even know the woman and yet she has so much hate for me.”

“Magnus, that wasn’t about you.”

“I know that,” he replied much too quickly.

“But it doesn’t make it easier to hear,” Clary supplied. She got it. She always did.

“I’m too accustomed to people judging me before they know who I am. It’s never stopped me from being the freewheeling bisexual I am.” Magnus winked at her, attempting to lighten the mood.

Clary’s responding smile was…thin.

Unsettled by the sudden change in her demeanor, Magnus set down the spoon and focused on her. “What is it, biscuit?”

Clary swirled the wine in her glass, staring into the crimson liquid with her brows stitched together. “There’s something I need to talk to you about and I—” Clary jumped when there was a knock at the door, splashing wine onto Alec’s sweatshirt. “Shit! Oh my god. I’m so sorry!”

Magnus didn’t even glance at what damage had been done. Clary was on the verge of tears and it was only in her most lost and frustrated moments that she allowed herself to be that vulnerable.

“It’s just a few drops,” Magnus reassured her. “Welcome your mother in and I’ll refill your glass.”

“Are you sure—?”

“It’s fine, biscuit. I promise.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Clary nodded, then handed her glass to him and walked for the door. Magnus set her glass down and refilled it, then proceeded to dab at the sweatshirt with a damp kitchen cloth. By the time Clary was opening the door, the set of her shoulders had changed, but Magnus was just as wary.

“Hi, mom,” she greeted Jocelyn with a brightness that managed to sound nearly carefree.

Magnus set the towel aside and decided to let Clary take the lead. If she wanted to forget about whatever she needed to talk about for now, then Magnus would do the same. Maybe they both needed to disconnect for one night.

Magnus opened his arms wide. “Jocelyn, my dear. And what is that decadent scent coming from the dish in your talented hands?”

Jocelyn grinned as Clary took the glassware from her mom. “My chicken cacciatore.”

“Simon is going to be _so_ mad that you made chicken cacciatore and he isn’t here,” Clary said, placing it on the counter.

Magnus hugged Jocelyn tightly, holding on until she was chuckling softly.

“Simon requested that I offer salutations to you from him. Should we freeze some of your comfort food masterpiece for him?” Magnus asked, drawing back to look at her. “He seems adept at dealing with ice.”

“No need to bother—he likes it best the next day anyway. And I already saved some for him, don’t worry.” Jocelyn’s hands were on his biceps, kind eyes taking all of him in. “Magnus, it’s been too long.”

“I was just saying that to him,” Clary called out from the kitchen.

Magnus grinned. “My company seems to be much more in demand than it ever has been.”

“Of course it is,” Jocelyn said sincerely and took a worn canvas bag off her shoulder. “Now, let’s get to the good stuff. I brought more bottles of wine. Time for me to hear what you’ve been up to.”

“My life has been…eventful as of late.”

“Including me just spilling red wine all over him.” Clary winced. “Hand over your sweatshirt, Magnus, and I’ll work at getting that stain out.”

“Absolutely not,” Magnus immediately answered. “This doesn’t come off until the game is over.”

Jocelyn’s mouth fell open. “You know, I didn’t believe Clary when she told me you were actually going to games, let alone making an evening of watching one on TV. When did you become a hockey fan?”

Magnus looked to Clary and she merely smirked as she sipped at her refilled glass. So Jocelyn wasn’t aware of just how deeply enamored Magnus was with one very athletic and brooding hockey player.

“Apparently I was missing something in my life that I wasn’t aware I was missing at all.” He grasped Jocelyn’s hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. “Come have a seat. It will take me less than one game to make you fall in love with it too.”

 

****

 

The Penguins were a team that was offensively focused. Fast and aggressive, but without the brutish demeanor of the Devils.

Alec was prepared for their star center—Chuck Freeman. He was one of the leading scorers in the league and a future Hall of Famer in the making. When both teams first lines landed on the ice together, the puck was a blur. Both Freeman and Santiago were speed demons.

The Angels had played the Penguins many times during the regular season, but this was like playing a whole new team. The Penguins took to the ice at a breakneck pace that forced Garroway to shorten the shifts in order to preserve everyone’s energy.

The Penguins had won their first round in four games—instead of the seven it had taken the Angels—and the extra days of rest and practice that it had afforded the Penguins was showing. If the Angels were going to have any chance at winning tonight’s game, they would have to slow the pace of the game without racking up penalties.

The crowd was whipped into a frenzy, a sea of white in Alec’s peripheral vision. The Penguins were black dots against the blinding white of the Angels home uniforms.

From Alec’s vantage point, it was like being one piece in a manic game of chess.

The memory that thought evoked slammed into him, catching him completely off guard.

Chess was a game his mother had taught him as a child because it taught offense and defense. And those who could anticipate their opponents’ action many moves ahead were at a distinct advantage. She’d taught it to him because it was, in her view, a game educated people played. A sign of greater intelligence. And a lesson on strategy that would someday benefit her son who would become a soldier like her. She’d never made it a secret that she was ashamed he’d used those skills in a lowbrow game like hockey.

Alec tried to push thoughts of his mother aside. Forget every lesson she’d tried to teach him. There wasn’t time for Alec to think. He had to trust his instincts. Rely on his experience.

Alec glanced at the double zeroes on the scoreboard—a testament to how well he and the Angels were holding on despite not being in control of the game. His mother would be appalled that he considered “holding on” any measure of success.

He grimaced, the force of her disapproval slamming into him like a puck to the chest.

He now had twenty-eight year running streak of disappointing his mother.

And that streak wouldn’t end tonight—no matter how well he played.

 

****

 

“How do you even keep track of where the puck is?” Jocelyn asked. She tucked her foot under her leg and sat sideways on the couch facing Magnus with both eyebrows raised.

“It took me more than a few games before I was able to,” Magnus admitted as he glanced at the TV.

The game was still scoreless, and the pace was so fast that taking his eyes off the screen for even one second meant he could miss a big play. But the first period was almost over, so Magnus tried to disengage from his worry over the score—over the tension in Alec’s movements that hadn’t been present in the last game—and be a welcoming host.

A car commercial filled the screen and Magnus turned his full attention to Jocelyn. “I’m still confounded by the ways they use their skates, their sticks, and their bodies to maneuver the puck where it needs to go. I can’t even stand on skates. Remember how embarrassing I was the night you dragged me to Rockefeller Center last Christmas, Clary?”

“You were pretty bad,” Clary answered distractedly.

Jocelyn peered over her shoulder to where Clary was leaned against the kitchen counter, her phone in her hands as she typed a message with a furrowed brow.

Clary’s phone chirped and she looked up. “Can I use your office, Magnus?”

While Magnus believed he was doing a passable job of stuffing his swirling emotional turmoil into a black void of denial for the night, Clary was not.

“Of course, biscuit.”

Jocelyn watched her daughter go with a sad smile on her face.

“You know what it is that’s bothering her,” Magnus observed.

“Clary tells me everything.”

It was a simple statement of fact. A bond forged through history and mutual trust.

“I hope you know that wasn’t an attempt to pry information out of you,” Magnus said with all sincerity. “It makes me feel better to know she has someone to talk to.”

“I know.” Jocelyn glanced toward the closed office door, then turned and set her wine glass down. “Now that she’s gone, though, I am going to attempt to pry some information out of you. She’s open with me about her life, but very guarded when it comes to her friends. I can tell there’s something she worried about with you, and it’s obvious there’s something weighing on you tonight.”

Perhaps he wasn’t doing as good a job as he thought he was. But he didn’t maintain his protective facade in the same way when he was around people he trusted. And the people who knew him well could see through those faux-barriers anyway. Magnus paused as he considered how much to say. He knew he could trust Jocelyn, but Alec didn’t know her at all….

Magnus drew his knees up and circled his hands around his legs. “I’m involved with someone who isn’t out—and not by his own choice at this point. It’s…challenging on all fronts, except between the two of us. Seeing myself committed to only him, and him being just as committed to me…. It’s never been like this before for me. He’s a good man in a tough situation….”

Magnus broke his gaze from Jocelyn and watched the replays of the first period flashing on the screen as the commentators droned on. To anyone else, there was little indication in the way Alec was playing that anything had gone wrong today, but Magnus saw the difference. Knew he was partially to blame for Alec’s tension. “My past is only complicating things for him.”

“Magnus, how much has Clary told you about her father?”

The question caught Magnus off guard.

“Not much,” Magnus managed to reply. He didn’t make it a habit to seek out information he wasn’t willing to offer in return, and there was no one in Magnus’ life that he’d shared the details of just how brutal his own stepfather had been. “All she’s told me is that you fell in love with someone you shouldn’t have.”

“Clary’s father was ruthless,” Jocelyn responded. “But I didn’t know that until it was too late. I’m still ashamed of things I did when I was with him, and yet I wouldn’t change one moment of it because it all led to Clary.” Jocelyn leaned forward, placing her hand on Magnus’ leg. “Our pasts shape us, but they don’t define who we are now.”

“That is a cliché sentiment, Jocelyn,” Magnus chided kindly. “You’re an artist. I know you can do better.”

The corner of Jocelyn’s mouth tipped into a half-smile. “It’s only cliché because it has to be repeated over and over again for stubborn people like us to really understand it. You’re a good man, Magnus—one of the best men I’ve ever known. I’d bet that this man sees the same thing in you.”

_Anything for you, Magnus._

Magnus could still hear Alec’s voice in his head. It was a simple phrase that could be taken as a platitude, but from Alec—the man who was willing to sacrifice everything for the people he loved—it was a declaration. Perilously close to a promise. All of Alec’s words and actions pointed in the same direction. That he valued Magnus for the man he was right now. The message was so consistent and so heartfelt that it was becoming impossible for Magnus to deny that Alec felt just as strongly for Magnus as Magnus did for him.

Unfortunately, that didn’t bring Magnus any peace.

Just like with Izzy and Max putting themselves at risk for Alec, he worried how far Alec was willing to go for him. Just how much pressure Alec could bear before the weight of Magnus’ issues was too much for him to carry.

Magnus was terrified that he would be the reason Alec would break. “I don’t know that I deserve loyalty from him. Or from any of you, for that matter.”

“Magnus, the group of people you surround yourself _is_ giving and loyal—and that isn’t an accident. You’ve built yourself a family. A family I’m proud to be part of. Your career is the same—you started with one lowly client, and look at what you’ve made.”

As hard as it was to see past his own shortcomings, he wouldn’t give Jocelyn space to indulge her own. She’d been the first client to put their career in his hands, and Magnus was still honored that she’d chosen him. “You were never lowly, Jocelyn. I’ve been lucky to be associated with such high-caliber talent from the very beginning.”

“Don’t mistake luck for hard work. There’s a difference between choice and chance. Action and passivity. When you take control and act you are _always_ successful.”

He had worked hard to get where he was—both in his career and his personal life. Jocelyn was right. If he and Alec were going to be successful together then it was going to take the same level of dedication and time.

Magnus let that thought settle in. “He says my past doesn’t matter to him, only who I am today.”

“Then listen to him,” Jocelyn said, giving no room for argument. She took a sip from her glass and went back to watching the game. “You still haven’t told me how you got interested in hockey.”

“The man I’m involved with is very much…into hockey as well,” Magnus allowed.

Jocelyn raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask anything else.

Clary’s high-pitched giggling filled the room as she walked out of the office and passed her phone to her mom. “Someone wants to say hi.”

Jocelyn grinned as she looked at the screen. “Hello, Simon.”

Magnus couldn’t see the screen, but Simon’s voice was clear through the speakerphone. “Clary says you have something special for me? Something made with chicken…and love?”

“Stop by the house tomorrow—I have a dish sitting in the refrigerator for you. And say hello to Izzy for me when you get home.”

“You can say hello yourself actually.”

“Hi, Mrs. Fray,” Izzy said. “You remember my brother Max.”

“What’s up, Mrs. Fray?”

Jocelyn’s brow furrowed, then she was chuckling. “Of course I remember you, Max. Sorry, I was just confused there for a second trying to figure out why both of you would be at the game. I forgot your older brother plays for the Angels.”

Clary snorted and glanced at Magnus, smiling. Magnus kept his features locked down as Jocelyn narrowed her eyes, looking between them.

“Thanks for keeping Simon company for me tonight, by the way,” Clary hurriedly interjected.

“Well, he _is_ my husband.” Izzy laughed. “And it was either here, or up in the cheap seats, since Alec gave his tickets to a family he met on the High Line this morning.”

Magnus’ heart swelled to painfully affectionate levels at that news.

“Where’s Magnus, Clary?” Max’s voice came over the line. “You’re at his place, right?”

“Yeah, hang on. I’ll hand you over to him next.”

“Bye, Mrs. Fray,” Max said.

“Nice to see you again,” Izzy called out.

Jocelyn waved at the screen then handed Clary her phone. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

Clary skipped over to Magnus and held it out for him. On the screen, Izzy and Max were pressed against each other on the couch in Simon’s office. “Good evening, Lightwoods.”

“We miss you, Magnus,” Izzy said, pouting.

“Yeah—when the hell are you allowed to come to games again?” Max said. “All of my jokes are too sophisticated for these guys to understand.”

“That penguin one was just gross,” Simon said from somewhere off-screen. “Totally uncalled for.”

“Magnus would have laughed,” Max protested, stumbling a bit as he tried to stand.

“Excuse my younger brother. Max decided to drink your share of beer too, since he’s done with finals,” Izzy explained.

Just last night Alec had joked that Max and Izzy would miss Magnus not being at the game. He’d had no idea he would miss them just as much.

Magnus motioned for Clary to join him, and Clary sat on the couch next to Magnus, curling into his side.

“Come home to us,” Max begged, as he dropped onto the couch again, opening a fresh beer. “Simon’s lair is a cold, unforgiving landscape of soiled Playboy magazines and fifty gallon drums of lube. What do they need all that lubricant for anyway?”

“Those magazines aren’t mine!” Simon yelled.

Max leaned in, whispering. “Notice he didn’t deny the lube.”

“Annnnnd you’re cut off,” Izzy said as she plucked the can out of Max’s hands. Max just grumbled and got off the couch again.

There was the distinct sound of a can being popped open, then, “Fine! I’ll just sit over here by myself on this gigantic barrel marked ‘gear lubricant’ and contemplate what it’s really used for since the zamboni is _electric_.”

“More room for me.” Izzy raised a middle finger—at Max, Magnus had to presume—then laid her head on the armrest and stretched out. Her features softened when she focused on Magnus again. “I’m glad you and Alec talked. He seemed much better when I texted him before the game.”

“He’s not quite himself, but he’s playing well tonight,” Magnus acknowledged, his eyes snapping up as Jocelyn joined them on the couch again.

Izzy sighed. “I’ll give Alec a hug for both of you after the game, okay?”

Jocelyn’s brow furrowed for only a blink of an eye, then she was attempting to cover up the shocked “o” of her lips with her wine glass.

Well, that cat had come screeching out of the bag.

“Please do,” Magnus said.

Clary blew a kiss at the screen before they hung up then set her phone aside. She laid her head on his shoulder, sighing. “I wish you could be there, babes.”

Magnus slung his arm over Clary’s shoulders. “Me too, biscuit.”

Jocelyn just glanced at Magnus’ sweatshirt and smiled.

 

****

 

The intermission between the first two periods passed at the same whirlwind pace the game had, with Garroway barking out corrections and making adjustments to the lines. Alec, like everyone else, was drenched in sweat. It was a twenty-minute break to recalibrate their attack. Twenty minutes to rest their bodies, to refuel.

It wasn’t enough time.

The Penguins roared out of the tunnel into the second period and the Angels were left scrambling after the puck again instead of getting ahead of it. In response, the Angels treaded closer to that line of brutal defensive play and desperation.

The shots on goal came faster, hitting him with more force and from more challenging angles. The Penguins had studied him and knew exactly where his weaknesses were. But Alec was even more aware of his failings than they were.

He stopped every shot that likely would’ve been a goal in the regular season.

Jace, though—still slower due to his injury in the first round—began to hit harder since he couldn’t outskate the Penguins. Alec watched warily as Jace pushed at Freeman when he could, then Velasquez joined in—a far too satisfied smirk plastered on his face as he toyed with the Penguins’ center. This wasn’t how the Angels would get any points on the board, but Alec could see Freeman’s tight control slipping.

It took until halfway through the second period—and a relentless push from Velasquez—for Freeman to finally break when the Penguins’ star forward slammed into Bat stick first, sending Bat careening to the ice. The ref’s whistle stopped play completely and Bat was back on his skates in one fluid movement, yelling at Freeman as the refs held him back.

The high-sticking call was obvious—and would send Freeman to the sin bin no matter what—but the length of the penalty depended on whether Freeman had injured Bat. Freeman skated for the box as Bat made his way to the boards by the home bench, Kadir checking out Bat’s face as the ref stood by.

“No blood. We’ve got two instead of five,” Alec overheard Jace say to Pangborn.

That meant a two-minute power play where the Angels would have a one-man advantage on the ice. In a game that had been fast paced and nearly penalty free, this could be the momentum swing the Angels needed to get a point on the board.

When play restarted, the Angels took the puck into Penguins territory and it stayed there. The Penguins goalie may have been a rookie, but he was good. He deflected every shot sent toward the net, no matter how hard the Angels pressed in. They couldn’t convert on the best scoring opportunity they’d had so far.

There were only seconds left on the power play when the Penguins finally gained control of the puck and brought it into the Angels defensive zone. Alec crouched down as play moved toward him.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Freeman bursting out of the penalty box, skating hard down the wings for the goal. It was only by chance that Alec caught the movement at all, since the Penguins defenseman was on the opposite side of the ice with the puck, skating past the faceoff circle, heading for the back of the net.

His training told him to stick close to the post and protect the bottom corner, but Alec’s instincts were pinging. He’d been in situations like this before.

In his mind’s eye he could see his mother across the chessboard from him, drilling into him the importance of time-tested strategy and protecting your queen against the likeliest of attacks first. Alec hadn’t questioned her then—it wasn’t his place and it wasn’t in him to disappoint her.

But he wasn’t that boy anymore.

Alec couldn’t let go of the thought that they were drawing his attention one way while setting up a sneak attack from the other side of the ice. They weren’t going for a backdoor shot on goal, the defenseman was going to pass to Freeman in the wings—hoping to catch Alec off guard and get a shot in over his shoulder.

“Watch left! Watch left!” Alec yelled to his defensemen.

He had less than a second to decide how to position himself and he went against everything his mother had taught him, pushing aside tradition and odds in favor of protecting against the unlikely shot. But instead of passing to Freeman, as Alec’s defensive strategy had banked on, the defenseman circled the net and slid to a stop, ice fanning out from his skates as he shoveled the puck past the post and into the back of the net.

Alec pushed up, harsh breaths see-sawing out of his mouth.

One to zero.

He’d been deflecting shots all night by the opposing team, and yet his real weakness was still _himself_.

 

****

 

“No, no, no, NO,” Clary chanted at the screen. “Alec _never_ lets a shot like that in.”

Magnus bit at his nail, marring the manicure he’d gotten before breakfast with Izzy. “It was like he was expecting the puck to come from somewhere else entirely.”

“Maybe he’s just tired,” Jocelyn tried. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to wear all that gear and keep in that position for so long.”

“Maybe,” Magnus replied.

But he knew better.

Just as surely as Magnus was battling to see past his own failures today—fighting to uncover what his next move should be, and anxious that he was going to make the wrong decision—Alec had carried those same demons with him onto the ice tonight.

They were in the same war, on the same battlefield with a shared enemy, and yet they had no definitive plan of attack. They were reacting—on the defensive instead of the offensive.

And it was tearing both of them down.

Both teams gathered at center ice, waiting for the puck to drop and restart play, but Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off Alec. There was a restlessness to Alec’s stance that Magnus hadn’t seen in Alec before. Even in the disastrous first game of the last round, Alec hadn’t looked so…twitchy. Like he was uncertain about how he should hold himself.

Magnus pushed to his feet and began to pace. He could feel the nervous energy coming off of Alec as strongly as if he was on the ice with Alec.

But he wasn’t in the arena at all. Wasn’t _allowed_ to be.

Magnus clenched his teeth and watched the puck drop. But before he could take a full breath, an Angels’ defensemen found an opening and slipped the puck past the Penguins goalie, tying the game.

The arena erupted and Clary surged to her feet, gripping Magnus’ arms and jumping up and down.

“Did that just happen?” Jocelyn said in disbelief. “Did they just score?”

“So exciting, right?” Clary gushed.

Magnus found he was smiling in response to the wide grin on Jocelyn’s face. Jocelyn was just as glued to the screen as he and Clary.

Magnus’ anxiety ticked down a notch.

He reminded himself that life was just as unpredictable as hockey. Everything could shift in your favor in the span of one breath.

 _When you take control and act you are always successful_ , Jocelyn had said to him.

If he and Alec were going to make it through this, they had to find a way to take control back.

They couldn’t be separated. Couldn’t be divided.

They had to find a way to take action.

Together.

 

****

 

Alec lifted his cage and squirted water in his mouth as the refs set up for a faceoff on the other end of the ice.

There were only minutes left in the third period and neither team had been able to gain enough of an advantage to break the tie score. Alec’s knee wasn’t hurting as much as it usually would at this point in a game, but he didn’t know how much of that was training and how much was sheer adrenaline. All the extra conditioning he’d been doing lately was definitely keeping him from flagging overall, though. Maybe running from his problems wasn’t nearly as bad as they made it out to be.

Alec dropped into his crouch as the ref put the puck into play again. Freeman snagged the puck on the faceoff and rotated around, slipping past the Angels’ defenseman and immediately barreling toward the goal. Alec had faced Freeman on a breakaway in the regular season and he adjusted his movements to protect the net, anticipating where the Penguins center would take his shot. Freeman drew his stick back and Velasquez slammed into him from behind, the refs’ whistles bringing play to a stop. Velasquez jumped over the boards and Garroway started barking at him immediately, but the damage had already been done.

“Fuck,” Alec bit out.

Velasquez’s taunting had crossed a definitive line. His carelessness meant the Penguins were going to be given a chance to go one-on-one with Alec in a penalty shot. Freeman against Alec. The ice quickly cleared of all the other players.

Garroway and the goalie coach could analyze past games, and Alec could study tape of every player until his eyes shriveled, but the penalty shot was dangerous—especially with a player as fast as Freeman. Alec had to read Freeman’s movements, try to protect as much of the net as he could, and hope that he would be smarter and faster than Freeman.

As soon as Freeman started forward, Alec’s instincts were pinging that the Penguins’ center would take a shot to the left side of the net. But history told him Freeman would go right—that Freeman was quick on his feet and would take a last second turn to the right, shooting the puck above Alec’s blocker, instead of his mitt. Every player in the league knew the five hole was Alec’s weak spot, but that was only during active play. Statistically, in a one-on-one situation a player’s best chance against Alec was going for one of the top corners.

Alec started to defend right, even though he couldn’t tamp down the feeling that Freeman was changing it up. But he’d gone against his training earlier and made the wrong call because of it. He’d made a mistake that had cost his team a goal. He’d let his fucked up issues with his mother influence how he played. And the war in his head over whether to trust his instincts or history was happening again.

He was wavering, unsure, when he should’ve been acting.

At the last second, just as Alec had anticipated, Freeman deked left, flicking the puck off the ice. Alec swiped his mitt up and felt the puck graze the edges of it, but after spending more than half his life on the ice he knew that he’d been a fraction of a second too late. He’d hesitated too long.

Alec’s stomach sank as the red light lit up, and the Penguins took a two to one lead.

 

****

 

Clary and Jocelyn groaned in unison while Magnus ground his teeth together.

There was less than five minutes left in the third and the game had been an almost evenly matched battle from the beginning. Magnus paced as the clock ticked down, flinching every time the puck went flying at Alec.

Whatever headspace Alec was in, it wasn’t the right one.

“I can’t even watch this,” Clary said. “It’s too stressful.”

Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

The Angels were in full-on attack mode now, pushing toward the Penguins goal, each shift lasting mere seconds before a fresh batch of players were hitting the ice on both sides. Magnus watched the clock warily—time ticking down. All the Angels needed was one goal to take the game into overtime. But it didn’t matter how hard the Angels pressed in, the Penguins were always there, not leaving any room for the Angels to take a real shot on goal.

“Ten seconds,” Clary said as Jace took control of the puck, his arm firing back and whipping the puck at the goal.

It hit the post, ricocheted forward to Pangborn, who slapped it back toward the goal. The goalie dropped down to deflect it as the final buzzer echoed through the arena.

The Penguins piled on each other in celebration at center ice and the Angels retreated down the tunnel.

Magnus swore under his breath.

The Penguins had taken the first game of the series.

 

****

 

“You want a ride home?” Jace asked as they headed for the player’s lot. He flipped his keys in his hand while he held the arena door open for Alec. “I picked up my new baby from the dealer today.”

Alec shook his head, brushing past Jace. “Thanks, but I need to keep my knee moving until I can ice it at home.”

“Hey,” Jace said, stopping Alec with a hand to Alec’s arm. “The game tonight was tough on all of us, but you had extra pressure going in. You still played really well, bro. Your save percentage tonight was higher than most of the other goalies in the regular season. Proud of you.”

Alec frowned. He was in a shit mood and there wasn’t a pep talk or statistic that could pull him out of it. “We’re not in the regular season anymore, Jace. It wasn’t good enough. _I’m_ not one of those other goalies.”

Jace grinned, just as undeterred by Alec’s grumpiness as usual, and clapped him on the back. “You’re right. In less than two months you’ll be our goaltender of the year.”

“You know we don’t talk about that stuff,” Alec reminded him gruffly. He slid his baseball cap on and glowered.

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” Jace tipped his head toward a jet black, two-door Maserati. “She’s almost as stunning as me, right?”

“She’s not really my type.” Alec pulled Jace into a one-armed hug then tracked backwards, heading for the gate. “Let’s focus on conditioning tomorrow, okay?”

Jace hit the button to unlock his car. “Yeah. Take it easy tonight. We’ll push hard tomorrow.”

Alec waved to the other players lingering in the lot and exited through the gate.

No one had blamed him for that final puck making it in—except Alec himself. He hadn’t trusted his instincts, had been too caught up in his own internal battle.

This was _exactly_ what Jace had meant when he’d said at Pandemonium that Alec’s personal life bled onto the ice. Alec had to find a way shut the noise out, like Garroway had asked him to do months ago. He had to be impenetrable.

Despite the late hour, the streets around the arena were still packed. That he could be anonymous in the midst of so many people—many of them sporting Angels gear—was one of the things he loved about New York. He took an easy pace, going with the flow of crowd as not to draw attention to himself, slowly moving down streets to bring him closer to home. A few blocks later the lingering frustration from the game finally started to drop away, so he situated his bag across his chest and plugged his headphones in to call Magnus.

“Good evening, Alexander.”

Alec took a deep breath, letting the sound of Magnus’ voice ease him.

He smiled even though Magnus couldn’t see him. He couldn’t have kept it in, even though he was bone weary and emotionally wrecked after today.

“Evening, Magnus.”

“It sounds like you’re walking home.”

He’d told Jace that he needed to keep his knee moving, but that wasn’t the whole truth. “I needed the air.”

Magnus was quiet for a moment. “Clary and Jocelyn are gone. Do you want me to come over?”

There was almost nothing Alec wanted more, except, “Max is spending the night at my place. And even if he wasn’t, I’m— Exhausted really doesn’t begin to cover it. I may just collapse face first in my entryway and sleep there.”

Magnus hummed. “Tell me what you do need then.”

Magnus never asked about the game after it was over, he always allowed Alec to take the lead. That consideration didn’t escape Alec’s notice, and may have just made him fall a bit more for Magnus. “I don’t want to talk about hockey, or Sebastian, or my parents. Anything but those….”

Alec fell silent, fiddling with the cord to his earbuds. He didn’t want to try to make conversation or think at all. He just wanted to hear Magnus’ voice. “I don’t know. Could you just…talk? Maybe tell me something about you? You seem like the type of person who has a lot of stories.”

Magnus chuckled softly. “I do have quite a few. What do you want to know?”

Alec said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t know anything about your friends besides Clary, Will, Jem, and Tessa, but you’ve mentioned going out with Ragnor and Cat a few times. Want to tell me about them?”

“Ragnor is insufferable,” Magnus started, the exasperation in his voice was laced with fondness. “He’s a grouchy college professor whom I adore with everything I am, but only tell him so when I’m drunk…. Which happens more than I’d like to admit. He tells me ‘no’ and all I want to do is the opposite. He knows this, and therefore is the most dangerous of instigators. Catarina is a nurse. She is far too good for this world, and yet exactly who this world needs more of. She was volunteering at the public health clinic I went to when I first came to New York, and Ragnor was already a friend of hers. We all fell in together as if it was always meant to be. We’ve known each other almost twenty years now.”

“You said when you first came to New York….” Alec hesitated. “If you want to— Do you think you could tell me about Indonesia? I just— I was thinking about growing up with Izzy and Max the other day, and, I don’t know. I just wanted to hear more about you. Growing up. And if there was anything…happy?”

“When I told you that you can ask anything of me, I meant that. There’s no topic in my life off-limits to you.”

Alec nodded, then remembered that Magnus couldn’t see him. “If you’re okay with it, then, yeah, I’d really like to hear more.”

Alec heard what sounded like the clack of ice against glass. He could picture Magnus swirling his drink as he contemplated what he was going to say.

“The first thing I think of when I remember Indonesia is the sweltering, yet delicious heat….” Magnus chuckled on the other end of the line. “Delightfully infused with the noxious fumes of rickety motorcycles, of course. If you’d believe it, I actually harbored quite the resentment toward footwear when I was younger. So much so that I usually went barefoot. That was until of course, I met this shoemaker who must have had a foot fetish, because his shoes were both gorgeous and pure heaven to walk in. I was twelve the first time I looked at a girl and wanted to kiss her. It was—oh, probably about a day later or so—the first time I looked at a boy and thought the same thing. I lived in the orphanage at that time.”

“Then you had some good times there?”

“I did. I was a hellion”—Alec grinned at the pride he heard in Magnus’ voice— “I learned how to make the right connections to get what I wanted at a very young age. Actually, it was those connections that made it possible for me to leave Indonesia.”

Alec let that all sink in as he waited for the light to turn so he could cross over 5th Avenue. “Is there anything you really miss?”

“The food,” Magnus answered immediately. “I do my best, but there’s nothing like fresh spices from the market or meals prepared in pots and pans that have been used for the same dish for decades. If it interests you, I’d love to cook some of my favorite Indonesian foods for you someday.”

Alec exhaled, felt more of the stress of the day fall away. It was so much easier to focus on what really mattered in his life with Magnus’ voice in his ear. “I’d like that. And to meet Ragnor and Cat. Throw Tessa, Will, and Jem in there and we’ll do a whole night that’s all about Magnus.”

“You know exactly how to woo me,” Magnus praised.

Alec chuckled, then scratched at his beard. His nerves started to take over. Everything with Magnus felt so much _bigger_ than the ordinary ideas swirling through Alec’s head, but— “You know…. I’d like to take you on an actual date.”

“Are you asking me out, Alexander?”

Alec smiled. “I am.”

“You may want to wait until you meet Ragnor before you make that offer.”

“I’ve subjected you to Max. I think it’s about time you got even.”

Magnus chuckled lowly at that. “I would love for you to take me out.”

Magnus went quiet and Alec felt a tugging in his chest. It was a foreign sensation, demanding. He thought he’d known what love felt like when he was with Raj, but this….

If Alec hadn’t been half-dead on his feet and Max wasn’t waiting for him, there would’ve been a good chance of him just bypassing his place and going straight to Magnus’ loft—damn the consequences.

“Soon,” Alec insisted.

“It can’t come soon enough,” Magnus responded immediately.

Alec turned the final corner before reaching his building and paused before he went inside. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there tonight, Alexander.”

Alec flipped his phone in his hand, trying to think of the right way to reply. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference to have Magnus in the arena tonight, but Alec’s gut was telling him it would have. He _felt_ stronger when he had Magnus at his side, more sure of himself.... But saying that out loud would only feed Magnus’ own guilt. Magnus didn’t need or deserve that. “Don’t apologize. Really. It was okay.”

“It wasn’t,” Magnus acknowledged as if he knew what Alec was thinking. “But it will be.”

Alec pushed inside the lobby and ducked inside the elevator, hitting the button for his floor. “I can’t make any promises. I’ve been a little short on luck lately.”

“Oh, Alexander.”

Alec wished he could see Magnus’ face, but he heard the plea in Magnus’s voice. The elevator doors slid shut and Alec leaned against the wall. “Yes, Magnus?”

“We don’t need luck. We have each other.”

A distinct warmth chased away the cold dread Alec had been carrying with him since the confrontation with his mother.

“I like the sound of that,” Alec admitted.

“Good. Then we’ll make it our truth.”

Alec smiled as he unlocked his front door, waving at Max who was already sprawled on the couch. “I’m home now and Max is here—” Max mouthed Magnus’ name and Alec nodded to confirm it was Magnus on the other end of the line. “I’ll text you when I wake up, okay?”

Max put the back of his hand to his forehead, clutched a hand over his heart, and pretended to faint.

Alec rolled his eyes at his brother.

“It’s not a game day,” Magnus’ smooth voice came over the line, “but I’m sure I can help you find a way to make your morning just as…satisfying.”

Alec felt his cheeks heating. “I— Uh. I look forward to it. To that.”

Max lifted his head and glared at Alec. “Oh my god. Is he talking dirty to you? No phone sex while I’m in the room.”

Alec snorted and ignored his brother. “Have a good night, Magnus.”

Magnus was laughing softly on the other end of the line. “Sleep well, my angel.”

 

****

 

Magnus tried to hold back his grin as he rode up the elevator to his office floor, flipping through his texts with Alec that morning.

He’d been barely awake, but his first thoughts had been about Alec, of course. Before he’d really thought about what he was doing, he’d snapped off a picture of himself—still lying in bed, his makeup smeared because he’d fallen asleep with his cell still in his hand after Alec had called him—and texted it to Alec.

The reply had been immediate. _Fuck_

Magnus had laughed until he’d smeared his makeup even more.

Then a second message from Alec had appeared. _How do you manage to look so fucking good in the morning?_

Magnus had typed back _, It’s a talent_

_You’re so…Magnus, even at 6am. Wtf? Stop being so hot_

Then a picture of Alec had popped up, an exaggerated frown on his face, hair askew, creases still in his face from sleeping….

Magnus had wanted nothing more than to wake up every morning to a grumpy Alec. _Isabelle warned me that you’re a bit surly in the mornings, but this is the first time I’ve seen even a hint of that_

 _Just unfair that I’m here and you’re there._ There had been a pause, then, _I’d like to wake up next to you again_

Magnus had been much too happy with that request _. I do believe you were ON me, not next to me_

A line of three dots had appeared, followed by, _Can do that too_

Magnus had stared at the screen after that. His reply had taken longer than usual because of the unexpected heat blasting through his veins. _Well then. I’m officially awake_

_:) I’m headed to practice soon. Text you after?_

_I’ll be preparing for my business trip,_ Magnus had typed back. _Please do, my bearded warrior. Glad I could coax one smiley out of you_

_:(_

_You’re laughing, aren’t you?_

_Maybe. I can’t anymore tho. My whole body aches from the game_

_If you were here I could help with that_

_I repeat. Fuck_

Magnus was only going to be gone three days and there had been a time when he’d gone weeks without seeing Alec in person, but…. _Is it too much for me to say I haven’t left NY yet and I already miss you?_

_What if I said yes?_

He enjoyed this teasing side of Alec very, very much. _Ah. So you’ll miss me too_

_Stop being cute_

_I am NOT cute,_ Magnus had protested.

_You are *winking emoji*_

Magnus’ reply had been swift _, :(_

_Okay, I’m definitely laughing now_

_Go put on your knife shoes, my ice prince_

_Ttyl Magnus_

Magnus broke himself out of his reverie and stepped off the elevator, pocketing his cell. He quirked an eyebrow as he walked down the hallway at the floral shop that had apparently popped up outside his office while he’d been at lunch.

Magnus couldn’t see his highly-competent assistant over the spray of sunflowers and daisies lining the edge of her desk, so he peered around them. “Good afternoon, Ms. Fray.”

He eyed the card still attached to one of the bouquets but Clary swiped it off, secreting it away in her purse as she smirked at him. “You have a guest waiting for you in your office, Mr. Bane.”

Magnus lifted his eyes to Clary warily. “Due to recent events, you can understand why that statement invokes a Pavlovian response from me. Is my terror justified?”

“It’s Max. Pretty sure there’s nothing to be terrified about with Max.”

Magnus scoffed. “You haven’t spent nearly enough time with the junior Lightwood then.”

“Just go in and see him.” Clary lips tugged down. “Honestly? He looks like he could use a hug.”

Magnus mirrored Clary’s frown and proceeded into his office. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence, Max?”

Max was slumped into the couch on one side of Magnus’ office. Indeed, he looked very much like he needed a hug. Despite Izzy’s contention that the Lightwoods loved hugs, he didn’t think he was quite there in his relationship with Max yet. Magnus clicked his office door closed.

Max held up a canvas bag, bottles clinking together with the gesture. “I came to do your nails.”

Magnus stopped short. “You what?”

“I—” Max’s brow furrowed, then he was shaking his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I haven’t seen you in person since the last game and…a lot has happened since then.”

“You channeled your brother for a moment there,” Magnus noted as he sat down next to Max.

Max’s smile faltered, a cracking of Max’s seemingly impenetrable confidence. “I’ve spent a lot of time in his head the last thirty-six hours, and I need to get out of it for a bit. And mine.”

Magnus exhaled. There was work to be done—calls to make, and meetings to set. But Max…. Max’s happiness was swiftly becoming as important to Magnus as Alec’s. Magnus fluttered his fingers, holding them out to Max. “Which hand would you like first?”

“Either.” Max lifted his eyes to Magnus. “You sure this is okay?”

“I’m always up for an impromptu costume change,” Magnus reassured him. “And the last manicure you gave me was divine.”

The set of Max’s shoulders eased and he went to work, scouring through the bottles and holding them up next to Magnus’ outfit. While Max considered which color to choose, Magnus took the polish remover and cotton balls Max had brought with him and began to swipe away the coat of polish he’d wrecked during the stress of last night’s game. Normally he wouldn’t have left his apartment with his nails in such a state, but he’d wasted away the morning texting with Alec instead of maintaining his normal beauty regiment. A sacrifice that had been well worth it, in his opinion, and one that was being rectified now anyway—while also helping Max. A win-win all around. He and the Lightwoods needed more of that.

Once Magnus had unearthed his natural nails and Max had two bottles sitting on the couch next to him, Max gently grasped Magnus’ left hand and began to paint. Minutes went by with neither of them saying anything. This was the longest Magnus had been in a room with Max and not heard one sarcastic, flippant, or unabashedly sexual remark fall from Max’s lips. It was a new side of the youngest Lightwood that Magnus assumed Max didn’t allow to come to the surface very often.

Magnus cleared his throat and decided to delve into the reason behind Max’s surprise visit. “Would you like to share with me why you’re really here, Max?”

Max kept his focus on Magnus’ nails when he answered, jaw clenching. “My mother doesn’t speak for Izzy, Alec, or me.”

There was anger and hurt mixed in Max’s voice that twisted Magnus’ gut. “I know.”

“What she said about you—”

“Wasn’t about me at all,” Magnus cut in. “Alexander and Isabelle are the ones who didn’t deserve to hear any of it.”

“The last time I saw you, I told you to be careful…. I didn’t expect any of this.”

“None of us did.” Magnus tried to smile in a way that could show how grateful he was. Max may have visited with the intent to support and comfort Magnus—but perhaps showing up here was to bolster Max’s own well-being, too.

There was no extricating himself from the Lightwood siblings now—he was just as ingrained in their lives as they were in his—and Magnus found that made him…happy. “Your color choice is impeccable.”

Max smirked. “Well, yeah.”

“Now _there’s_ the Max Lightwood I know.” Magnus inspected the hand that Max had finished. “Isabelle hinted that there’s something the two of you are working on to help Alexander.”

Max scoffed. “Don’t ask me what it is. It’s better if you have plausible deniability if the cops come knocking at your door.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Max didn’t even look up, he just grinned.

Well, apparently there was no dissuading this Lightwood either. They were an unusually loyal bunch.

“Knowing Alexander, he probably tells you how much you and your sister mean to him every day, but I want you to know that I feel the same. Please be careful.”

Max chuckled and shook his head gently. “You are so far gone for him.”

A slow smile spread across Magnus’ face. “Perhaps.”

Max sat back, brush in one hand, the other sweeping his hair off his forehead. “Alec? Really? I mean, he may be a chiseled ice god who’s wealthy, smart, and yet genuinely humble, but what does he _really_ have going for him?”

“I suppose when you put it like that….”

Max rolled his eyes. “He’s annoyingly perfect.”

“Annoyingly perfect _for me_ ,” Magnus clarified.

Max pretended to gag. “I’m going to choke on all this fluff if I stay here any longer.” He swiped the brush over the last nail and twisted the cap back on the bottle, surveying his work. “What do you think?”

It was better than most of the manicures he paid for. “Same time next—”

Three rapid taps sounded against the door. Since Clary hadn’t pinged him on his intercom, that meant there could only be one person standing on the other side.

Magnus held up a freshly painted nail to Max. “Hold that thought.” He delicately opened the door, protecting his still-drying nails. “Imogen. Another surprise guest. Please come in.”

“Good afternoon, Magnus.” Imogen strode in, either because she knew he wasn’t with a client or because she didn’t care who he was with. Maybe both.

“Imogen, this is Max Lightwood—Alec’s brother. Max, this is Imogen Herondale, the CEO of Idris Entertainment.”

Max stood and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Herondale.”

Imogen shook his hand. She was neither cold nor warm. “Likewise.”

“Thank you for your time, Magnus,” Max said, picking up his bag. “I’ll have Clary walk me down.”

When Max was gone and the door was shut again, Magnus turned to his boss. “Well, Imogen. What can I do for you today?”

She sniffed the air, one eyebrow carefully raised. “I assume Max Lightwood isn’t a potential client.”

Magnus knew what she was really insinuating. “Nothing has changed between Alec and me.”

“While that may be the case, the status of your relationship with Alec wasn’t the entirety of our discussion.” Imogen crossed her arms. “You are even more emotionally invested in Alec than your other clients—or your other clients’ families. You have my support, Magnus, but that doesn’t mean you have carte blanche. As I stated previously, I’ll be closely managing your work with him for the foreseeable future. To that end, I’ve booked both of us tickets to Dallas—leaving tonight instead of tomorrow—so we can strategize about _our_ meeting with Dorothea Rollins.” Imogen locked eyes with him, her authority undeniable. “My car will pick you up from your apartment in an hour.”

 

****

 

Alec dropped his duffel bag to the floor of his apartment and groaned. His whole body ached and he was starving.

With each step into his apartment he stripped another piece of clothing off, leaving a trail behind him as he went for the kitchen instead of the bathroom like he usually would.

He’d showered at the arena for the express reason of getting food into him as fast as he could, but he was overheated from practice and the walk home. His body was worn down but still jumpy with lingering adrenaline. Last night’s game had been harder on him than he’d anticipated. More of a battle than any of them had expected. But practice had been exactly what they all needed. There was little that brought a team together more than shared pain.

And, _shit_ , he was hurting.

But it was the good kind of hurt. The kind that came from sweat and hard work. The kind that reminded him that, yes, he had limits, but if he worked hard enough he could stretch himself past those outer boundaries. He’d driven himself to the edges of his limits today, as had everyone else. There was no chance of the Angels slowing their opponents down, so they were going to have to play at the Penguins’ speed. Faster than that if they wanted to take the next game. Tomorrow night was a must-win if they were going to win the whole series. It was going to be a struggle to last even five games at this pace.

Alec was pushing himself to have a successful game, but pushing even harder to deflect thoughts of the demons that were stalking him. It had been three days since Sebastian Morgenstern had shown up in Magnus’ office. Less than a day since his mother had stormed the arena parking lot. Days filled with reassurances from Magnus and his siblings, all of them working to defend him. Days when Alec should’ve been thinking of only good things—hockey, his siblings, his friends, and Magnus—but the worry about his future kept slipping through and forcing its way to the front of his thoughts.

He flipped through his apps—opening up the intense playlist he’d had on repeat throughout practice—and connected his phone to the speaker system running through his apartment. Food, rest, and finding a way to either quiet his brain or overpower it with a louder noise—that’s what he needed tonight to prep himself for tomorrow’s game.

“Food first,” he said to himself and set to work making dinner.

The music volume dropped down and Alec’s cell beeped with a reply from Magnus to the text Alec had sent him after practice.

_Change of plans_

Alec worried his lip between his teeth.

 _All okay?_ He hit send.

The music quieted as another text came in.

_In Imogen’s car right now. I’ll call in a few hours when we can talk_

It was a more abrupt answer than usual—and mysteriously vague—but Imogen was likely sitting next to Magnus.

Alec kept his reply to a succinct _K_ and turned back to the stove.

His music started up again and Alec cracked his neck. It was the perfect weather for a quiet dinner on the rooftop garden, but if Alec let any silence settle in, he knew where his thoughts would go.

He opened his fridge and surveyed the contents, analyzing what he could throw together now and what would take time to cook. He had leftovers from the vegetarian café down the road that he snatched out to snack on, then set to actually taking the time to cook himself a real meal instead of just stuffing himself with random items from his fridge.

He turned the volume up on his speakers and let the crashing music envelop him.

Facetime pinged on his phone, cutting the driving music off completely, and Alec jumped. He looked to his cell in surprise—realizing over an hour had passed since he’d gotten home. He was still in his boxers and was at a time critical time of throwing ingredients together in the pan, but he always answered when Max called.

He propped his phone against the knife block and picked up the call. “Hey, Max. What’s up?”

“I’m totally checking in on you,” Max said with a grin. He was twirling a pen between his fingers, sitting at the desk in his apartment. “Went to visit Magnus earlier and thought I’d see if you looked as sexually frustrated as he does.”

Alec scoffed, but had to know. “And?”

“You do.” Max leaned back in his desk chair, chewing on the end of the pen. “What are you doing?”

“Listening to Linkin Park and making dinner.” He’d lost himself in the process of cooking. He was surprisingly calm for as amped as he’d been just an hour ago. He waved the spatula in the direction of the stove. “It’s this chicken thing with bacon and a craft beer sauce, with rosemary potatoes and balsamic glazed brussel sprouts on the side.”

Max quirked an eyebrow. “Any kale in there?”

Alec stirred the sauce to make sure it didn’t burn. “Crispy kale in the brussel sprouts, yeah.”

“And you’re making all of this wearing only boxer briefs? While listening to the angst-ridden catalog of Linkin Park?”

“Technically, I have the song Numb on repeat.” There were…reasons this had been his perpetual song choice today. And the boxers? Well, he didn’t really have a good reason for not having put his clothes back on once he’d cooled down, but this was his apartment. “I just got home from practice. Why?”

“Hard rock, kale, and manly sweat. I didn’t even know emo-hipster-jock was a thing. But wow, here you are.”

Alec flipped Max off.

That only made Max’s smile bigger. “I’m buying you a beanie to complete the look. And some eyeliner.”

“I look great in eyeliner,” Alec contended.

“Magnus tell you that?”

Alec felt a blush creeping up his neck and deflected. “Pretty sure you and Izzy were the first people to ever tell me that.”

“Then it must be true.”

Alec chuckled fondly. “You have a reason for calling? Besides tormenting me, little brother?”

“Do I need one?”

“Nope. Just asking.” Alec’s head snapped up the sound of a heavy knock on his front door. “Gotta let you go, Max. The doorman’s probably bringing up a package. I need to put some clothes on.”

“Later,” Max said, and disconnected the call.

Alec turned down the volume of his music and cut the heat on the stove, then backtracked through the living room, picking up his t-shirt and shorts and slipping both on. He opened the door—to a hallway packed with NYC’s finest.

Alec’s jaw dropped.

What the hell were cops doing at his front door?

One of the uniformed officers stepped forward. “Mr. Lightwood? We have a warrant to search your residence.”

Alec gripped the door, eyes skipping over every distantly blank face staring coldly back at him. “For _what_?”

“It’s all addressed in the warrant.” The officer handed a piece of paper over to Alec. “Do we have your permission to enter?”

Alec reached for the warrant with shaking hands. “Do you need it?”

“No,” the officer answered with a sneer.

“Jesus, Nate,” another cop, this one in suit, said. He looked up at Alec. “Call your lawyer. We can wait in the hallway until he gets here.”

Alec didn’t even know if he had a lawyer anymore. Hodge had always handled that and Magnus had been dealing with his legal matters since the switch. He scanned over the warrant, anger taking hold when he saw what they were looking for. “You think I’m working with Valentine Morgenstern?”

The cop in the suit sniffed. “We don’t think anything, Mr. Lightwood. We’re just here to execute this search warrant.”

Alec gritted his teeth, left the door open and tracked back to the kitchen to grab his cell. He dialed Magnus and the call went immediately to voicemail. Alec swore and tried again, getting the same result.

“Shit,” he mumbled and ran his fingers through his hair. What the hell was he supposed to do here? Alec’s eyes widened. “Lydia.”

He put his back to the open door when Lydia picked up.

“Hey, Lightwood,” she greeted him.

Alec swallowed. “Lydia, I have cops at my door with a search warrant. I can’t get ahold of Magnus.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she said without hesitation. “When you hang up with me text me Magnus’ number. I’ll call him while I’m on my way. Are they in your apartment yet?”

He glanced at the hallway, keeping his voice low. “Not yet. They said they’d wait for my lawyer but I don’t know who that is.”

“They can wait outside your apartment. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thanks,” Alec muttered. He resisted the urge to slam the door in their faces and sat down on the couch, reading over the warrant. After he’d read it through another two times—his anger flaring every time he saw the names Valentine Morgenstern and Hodge Starkweather—he snapped off a picture and sent it to Magnus. Minutes passed and there still wasn’t a reply, the message left unread. Alec’s knee bounced at a frenetic rate, and his lip was beginning to hurt from how much he was gnawing at it.

He heard movement in the hallway and looked up to find Lydia pushing through the group of cops and into his apartment. The steely-eyed gaze she had on the police softened the second she had her back to them and was focused on him.

Alec stood, handing the warrant over. “Thanks for coming so fast.”

“I was at home working up the nerve to call and ask someone out. This is less painful.” Lydia’s eyes danced over the piece of paper. “And total bullshit. What the fuck is this?”

Alec shook his head. “I don’t know. And I haven’t been able to get ahold of Magnus.”

“I can’t reach him either, his cell must be off.” Lydia’s eyes snapped up to him. “I can act as your attorney and make sure they’re sticking within the parameters of the warrant.”

“You draft contracts for NBC,” he whispered.

“They don’t need to know that.” Lydia waved the cops in. “Come on in, gentlemen.”

Alec’s stomach rolled as the police entered and started rifling through his drawers. “This has to be the work of my mom or dad.”

Lydia’s features sharpened in anger. “Your parents?”

“My mom showed up at the arena yesterday. I’ll fill you in later.”

“Whoever’s behind it—it’s a scare tactic, for sure. I’ll get ahold of Izzy while they’re working, make sure this doesn’t pop up in the media.” Lydia put her hand on his arm and peered up at him. “You don’t have to be here. Go to Izzy’s, or even Max’s place. Hell, I’ll give you my keys if you need a place to go.”

“Yeah, okay. I don’t want to be— Shit. Call me when they’re done here, okay? I’ll find a place.”

Lydia nodded and Alec went for the door, grabbing his duffel bag.

The uniformed cop who had been a dick to Alec from the beginning was stationed at the door and he grabbed Alec’s arm stopping him. “We can’t allow you to take anything from here until we’ve completed the search.”

“This is my gear.”

Lydia was at his side in a second. “And doesn’t fall under the specifications of the search warrant. You don’t have to let them search it, Alec.”

Alec shook his head, defiant. “I don’t have anything to hide.”

Alec unzipped his bag and the officer waved over the cop in the suit. Alec dropped the bag to the ground and the man bent down, searching through the contents then zipping it back up.

He handed it over to Alec. “Good luck tomorrow, Mr. Lightwood. The city is rooting for you.”

Alec bit down on his tongue to keep in a scathing reply and stalked out of the apartment, unsteady on his feet.

He stepped onto the sidewalk and knew there was only one person he needed to talk to. But he had no idea where Magnus was right now and why he wasn’t answering….

_Clary._

She would now exactly where he was—why the hell hadn’t he thought of calling her half an hour ago?

He hit her number, and before Clary could even finish greeting him, Alec had impatiently bit out, “Do you know where he is?”

“Magnus?”

“Yes, Clary. Magnus. I can’t get ahold of him.”

“He’s on a plane with Imogen right now. She showed up at his office suddenly and said that he had less than an hour to pack.”

“Shit.” Magnus’ business trip. That had been the change of plans Magnus had alluded to. “When does he land?”

“An hour or two. Alec, what’s going on?”

Alec looked up at his building, stomach churning. His apartment had been taken over by NYC cops. It was the night before a must-win game and Alec was so far outside his pre-game headspace that he didn’t know if he’d be able to find it before tomorrow night.

And Magnus wasn’t here.

He glanced across the road and noted a man with a camera standing in a stoop, his lens pointed in Alec’s direction. Was someone hired by Sebastian watching Alec right now? _Fuck._

Alec was going to be sick.

“It’s bad,” he finally answered Clary. “That’s for sure.”

 

****

 

Magnus swiped his phone out of airplane mode the moment the wheels of the plane touched down in Dallas. Instead of the usual trickle of missed phone calls and texts, a flood of notifications filled his screen. Dozens of missed calls, voicemails, and texts from Alec, Izzy, Clary, and an unknown number.

Panic coursed through Magnus. He immediately hit the button to call Alec, he didn’t want to waste any time trying to scroll through the messages.

“Magnus.” Alec’s voice broke around his name when he picked up.

Magnus’ throat tightened. Only then did Magnus realize the mistake he’d made by calling Alec back without finding some privacy first.

Magnus was sitting next to Imogen, her ever-aware presence within feet of him. She wasn’t looking directly at him, but he knew she was listening.

Magnus fixed his gaze out the airplane window, trying not to draw her attention to how truly vulnerable he was in the moment simply because of how Alec sounded. Attention invited scrutiny—questions that delved past surface appearance. Magnus couldn’t handle that level of examination from his boss right now. The parameters of his relationship with Alec were a wall of paper instead of plaster—a flimsy façade at this point.

If Imogen pressed Magnus for more details, she would break through to something far different than what Magnus was contending.

“We just landed in Dallas,” he said with much more calm than he felt.

“Clary told me. I thought you were leaving tomorrow?”

Magnus spared a glance at Imogen. She was out of her seat now, gathering her carry-on and purse. He had to be careful what he said out loud. “That was the plan.”

Imogen’s cool gaze slid over him with that reply.

On the phone, Alec sighed. “When are you getting back?”

Magnus didn’t flinch away from Imogen. “Later this week. I’m in LA next. Could you hold for a moment, please?” Magnus put his cell to his chest and addressed his boss. “Please don’t let me keep you waiting, Imogen. I need to take this.”

Imogen nodded brusquely. “I’ll meet you at baggage claim.”

Magnus waited for Imogen to deplane then put his cell back to his ear. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Magnus. It’s fine.”

From the cascade of messages still pinging on his phone and the tone of Alec’s voice, whatever was happening was distinctly _not_ fine. “Alexander. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I think my parents just tried to force my hand. A show of power.”

What had been panic mere seconds ago morphed into anger. “What did they do to you? Where are you?”

“I’m at the bar by my apartment. The police are currently searching my place for any documents that could tie me to being a co-conspirator of Hodge or Valentine.”

Magnus sneered. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know that, and you know that, but—” Alec sucked in a breath. “They drove me out of my _home_ , Magnus. I’m running out of safe spaces.”

Magnus’ fingers twitched with the need to do something. He solved problems as an agent—it was _job_. He took a deep breath to focus. Imogen was right—he was uniquely, immutably tied to Alec in a way that none of his other clients were, or ever would be. There were things he would offer to Alec that he would to no one else in his life. “My apartment is safe, and it is always open to you. Go to my building and call me when you get there. I’ll have the doorman let you into my loft.”

“Okay.” Alec blew out a long breath. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“I need to make some calls now. Will you be okay if I let you go?”

A pained laugh hit Magnus’ ear. “No, but I’ll deal.”

Magnus gathered his things and headed for the terminal. “Call me when you get to my place. It doesn’t matter where I am, or who I’m on the phone with, I’ll answer.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll get through this,” he reassured Alec.

“Together, right?”

Alec sounded so…small.

Magnus wanted nothing more than to turn back around and board the next plane for New York. But he was in Dallas _for_ Alec, working to strengthen support for his fight ahead. They might have been separated by distance, but they weren’t divided.

“Yes, Alexander. Together.”

 

****

 

Alec thanked the doorman and dropped his bag on Magnus’ floor. He snicked the locks into place and felt his every muscle in his body ease. He was safe here.

Even though Magnus was half a continent away, Alec still felt his presence. Grounding Alec through the bracelet on his wrist. Protecting Alec with the safety of this loft. Supporting Alec, from the other end of his cell phone. Because they were in this—together.

Alec put the phone back to his ear, listening to Magnus speak to someone else in the background. Magnus’ tone was all business. That clarity of purpose and unassailable self-confidence had rankled Alec in the beginning, but now it reminded Alec of just how far they’d come. Most people were only allowed to see the brusque, professional side of Magnus—very few knew the giving, kind man Alec had fallen for.

“Are you still there?” Magnus asked as he came back on the line.

“I’m inside now,” Alec verified as he looked around the loft. “Is Chairman here?”

“He stays with Catarina when I’m away.”

“You know…. If you ever need it, I could watch him too.”

“You are much too beloved by him. He’d probably never come home to me.”

Alec smiled at the affection in Magnus’ voice. “Probably.”

There was a beat of silence, then, “You’re still standing in the entryway, aren’t you, Alexander?”

Alec shifted on his feet and laughed nervously. “Yeah.”

“My home is yours. For my peace of mind, if not yours, please make yourself comfortable.”

Alec kicked off his shoes, setting them next to his bag, and dropped onto the couch, sighing. “I’m sitting.”

“Good. I’m in my hotel room now and don’t have to meet Imogen for another hour. Do you want to hang up and Facetime?”

“You need to see my face, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Alec needed that too. “I’ll call you back in a minute.”

Alec hung up and looked at his screen. His phone had already connected to Magnus’ wifi. It was such a small thing, and yet comforting. This place was familiar.

Safe.

He was just beginning to understand how vital that concept was in his life.

He tapped the screen to Facetime Magnus and the call was answered with the view of a ceiling. “Hey. Where are you?”

Magnus’ face appeared, leaning over the screen, hair falling over his forehead, and a smile on his lips that made Alec’s stomach flutter. “I’m here. Just needed both hands to check the room for any signs of bed bugs.”

Alec snickered. “Definitely don’t want you bringing any of those home.”

Magnus tucked his hair behind his ear, his smile growing exponentially. Alec wasn’t sure what had prompted that and he didn’t feel the need to press. Seeing Magnus’ smile had chased away the last of his anxiety.

The screen blurred for a moment, then Alec could see Magnus perched on the edge of a chair by a window, with downtown Dallas sprawled out in the background. “I’ve spoken with both Isabelle and Lydia—Alicante is ensuring this doesn’t hit the media and, as expected, the police didn’t take anything from your apartment. They told Lydia it was a warrant that was rushed through—approved by some judge who will sign just about anything when he’s about to leave on vacation. We haven’t managed to tie the warrant request back to either of your parents, so far.”

It didn’t matter to Alec if there wasn’t any solid proof, he had no doubt it was their doing. “It was them. Lydia said it was a scare tactic.”

“Without a doubt. Did you receive the email from Isabelle with the coming out plan?”

His sister had sent that through yesterday, but he’d put off reading it. He couldn’t delay it anymore, though. “Yeah, I got it, just haven’t reviewed it yet.”

“Read it all over. Both Imogen and I approve of the plan she’s laid out. Talking to someone in the Angels’ organization needs to go to the top of your list. Think about who it should be, and if you want me there, I’ll be there.”

“I know you will.”

Magnus’ features softened and he sank into the chair. “So. How are you?”

Alec frowned before responding. “Whatever my parents were trying to do, I’m not scared. I’m—” Alec looked away from the screen, struggling to come up with the right combination of words to convey what he was feeling. When he looked at his cell again, Magnus’ eyebrows were stitched together with worry. “I don’t even know what to call it. I’m beyond rage, Magnus. I was sure before about what we needed to do…. And I understand what Izzy is saying about not provoking them—that all makes sense. But— I can’t sit back anymore. I have to fight back somehow. Even if it’s in small ways.”

“I’m listening. Like what?”

Alec huffed and got to his feet, pacing. “Me…being here? I’m not supposed to be anywhere that could tie me publicly to you.”

“And yet, you always seem to find your way there,” Magnus said with a distinct smile.

“Because it’s where I want to be,” Alec said. He’d said that before, but this time it felt more…permanent.

He’d been watching to see if anyone had followed him to Brooklyn, and he hadn’t seen anything to raise his suspicions. But even if he had, it wouldn’t have stopped him.

This was exactly where he wanted to be.

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “Neither of us is good with being passive.”

“That’s an understatement.” Alec chuckled and dropped on to one of the bar stools. There was a pile of necklaces on the counter, as if Magnus had shed them in a hurry while he was packing. Alec began to pick through them, untangling the chains and smoothing them into neat lines.

There was one Alec’s fingers kept going back to—a longer gold chain. It was so finely crafted that it was soft under his fingertips, and there were two small, circular pendants hanging from opposite sides instead of the center.

Alec threaded it through his fingers and held it up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear this necklace.”

Magnus smirked, a small laugh passing over his lips. “That, Alexander, isn’t a necklace—it’s a belly chain. I wore it under your sweatshirt in game seven.”

Alec blinked.

Looked at the belly chain.

Looked at Magnus.

He swallowed. Roughly.

“Shit. Um—” He could imagine now that those pendants sat at Magnus’ hip bones, a line of gold cutting across bronze skin, accentuating the defined muscles of Magnus’ stomach. Could imagine dropping to his knees, kissing along that line. His hands closing around Magnus’ hips, fingers sliding under the chain, as he worked his way lower…. Alec closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Yes, Alexander?”

Alec took a deep breath and dared to look Magnus in the eye again. “You had this on when we were at the bar that night?”

Magnus smiled coyly. “I did.”

Alec shook his head. “Tomorrow is game day, Magnus. So I need to _not_ think about any of this right now.” He set the chain down. Deliberately licked his lips. “Tomorrow morning, though….”

Magnus pouted. “That was unfair.”

Alec’s responding laugh felt as carefree as it sounded.

Magnus’ fingers teased the collar of his shirt. “Are you sure you don’t want a repeat performance of the last time it was just the two of us on Facetime?”

“That almost killed me,” Alec said honestly, tracking the movement of Magnus’ fingers. “If it happened again, I think I might actually die.”

“Ah. _La petite mort_.”

Alec cocked his head and squinted one eye. “I know what that means. And you speaking French isn’t exactly helping me to say no.”

Magnus ran a finger over his bottom lip. “Why say no when you can say yes?”

Alec groaned, hand running over his face in frustration. “Superstitions, Magnus—”

Magnus pulled his lip between his teeth then smirked. “I won’t tease you anymore, Alexander. I’ll let you go so you can settle in, I know it’s been a challenging day.”

It had been. But this…. This was worth it all. “No. Don’t go yet. I just— I just want to talk to you more.”

“Honestly? I’d settle for hugging you right now.”

Such an innocent action…. Like holding hands. But even those simple actions sent heat pouring through his veins.

“I wouldn’t say no to that.” Alec cleared his throat, tried to rein the conversation into something that would keep Magnus on the phone longer without torturing both of them. “Are you sure this is okay? Me being here?”

“Quite frankly, Alexander, I was distraught when my housecleaner came through and my sheets no longer smelled like you. Then Clary spilled wine on your sweatshirt and I had to wash it.” Magnus swirled his hands around in a graceful flourish. “Please feel free to roll around a bit on both while you’re there.”

Alec felt a blush popping up on his cheeks.

“Have you eaten?” Magnus asked.

Alec shook his head. “The cops came before I could.”

“Help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. Or if you don’t want to cook, I have an account at the diner on the corner. They’ll deliver for me.”

Alec nodded. “Thanks.”

“Far be it from me to deny your angelic body the nutrients it needs to stay in such heavenly condition.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Stop being cute.”

Magnus pursed his lips, eyes flashing a challenge. “I’m not _cute_. Perhaps you’d like to discuss just how low that belly chain sits on my hips?”

“Fuck.” Alec scrubbed a hand over his lips and beard as he let his eyes roam over Magnus. He watched as Magnus popped one shirt button open. Alec’s heart began to race. “If I don’t give in you’re going to start stripping, aren’t you?”

Magnus bit at his lip and undid another button.

“Magnus,” Alec warned.

Another flash of skin appeared, this time accompanied with a low, sexily devious chuckle from Magnus.

“Fine! You’re not cute.”

“I’m glad we’ve reached an agreement.”

Alec’s fingers itched with the overwhelming need to touch. “When do I get to see you again? In person?”

“I’ll be back in town late on Thursday.”

“Shit. I’ll be in Pittsburgh then. We fly home after the game on Friday.”

Magnus seemed to be considering that. “Saturday, then?”

“Maybe Friday night. Really late.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Magnus replied. “Now. Go get some food, sleep well tonight, utilize all of my showerheads to their _fullest_ extent in the morning. I’ll be watching your game tomorrow from the hotel.”

“I’ll blow a kiss to the cameras for you,” Alec teased.

“I’d like to kiss you again in person, Alexander.”

Alec’s gaze dipped to Magnus’ lips. “The next time you see me you can.”

Magnus grinned.

“Goodnight, Magnus. Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Anything for you.” Magnus blew a kiss at the screen and hung up.

Alec held his cell in his hands, staring at his home screen as he fought the urge to call Magnus back. How was it possible that he already missed Magnus?

He stood and unzipped his duffel, dropping his cell into the bag and going for a change of clothes to sleep in. His hand grazed his mask as he rifled through the bag, stopping him cold….

He was spending the night in Magnus’ home. He was surrounded by Magnus here. But when he went to the arena tomorrow, the only trace of Magnus being a part of his life would be texts on his phone and the bracelet on the wrist. He was breaking down the barriers between his personal life and hockey piece by piece, but it wasn’t enough.

He could still have part of his connection to Magnus with him even if Magnus couldn’t be in the arena.

Alec set his mask on the floor and picked up his phone to call Clary.

“Where are you?” she answered, her voice shaking.

“I’m okay, Clary. I’m at Magnus’ loft—going to stay here for the night.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

Alec laughed. “Probably not. But right now, it’s exactly what I need.”

“Okay then….” Clary cleared her throat. “Is there something I can do for you, Alec? I mean, you don’t usually call me unless—”

“Unless there’s a reason,” Alec finished. Shit. Just like with Simon, Alec needed to start paying better attention to the people he loved. “I know. I’m sorry. I— I should go.”

“Alec.” Clary sighed. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just tell me what it is.”

He couldn’t hide anymore. Couldn’t be passive.

He wanted _every_ part of him to be represented on the ice with him tomorrow. And Clary could help him do that.

Alec sat down on the floor with a thump and studied his meticulously unpersonalized mask. “You taking on any art commissions right now?”

 

****

 

Dallas had become a favorite city for Magnus to visit in recent years. It wasn’t quite as progressive as Austin, but southerners knew how to dress for even the simplest of occasions. Magnus had specifically picked out a black and silver brocade jacket for the lunch with Dot—pairing it with a bright pink shirt with ruffles, fitted black pants, and shiny wing tip shoes. In New York, this outfit would’ve been considered garish. In Dallas, he was only one of many men who wore pink with sublime elegance.

It had taken him hours this morning to get dressed and do his makeup and hair, but he easily fit into the crowd here, while Imogen—in her surely expensive, but depressingly dour black pantsuit—did not.

That didn’t keep Imogen from eyeing him and every other fashionably dressed man with wariness. Magnus hoped that wasn’t a harbinger of the conversation to come. He’d done his best to prepare Imogen for their meeting with Dot, but there were details of Dot’s life that weren’t Magnus’ to share.

The maître d stepped up to them, leather bound menus in hand. “Welcome, Mrs. Herondale and Mr. Bane. Please follow me.”

Magnus swept his hand, inviting her to go first, and he followed Imogen and the maître d as they wound through the tables.

Dot caught eyes with Magnus as they crossed the restaurant, a reserved smile on her lips. She stood when they approached the table and shook Imogen’s outstretched hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Imogen.”

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with us, Dorothea.”

“Dot, please. Magnus has informed me of the recent events involving Alec, but I’d like for this to be more of a social call and building of bridges than an official meeting.”

“Of course,” Imogen replied.

“Magnus, my love,” Dot said warmly.

Magnus leaned down and kissed both of Dot’s cheeks.

Imogen studied their greeting, then sat in the chair the maître d was still holding for her. “Is now when I get to learn more about how you two know each other?”

“Dot and I have known each other for a number of years,” Magnus said, standing next to his chair. He would leave it to Dot how much more detail would go into that story.

Dot took her seat again, and Magnus sat down across from her.

“Magnus might be a gentleman now,” Dot replied. “But it’s only because of my husband that he knows it’s proper to wait for a lady to be seated first.”

Magnus restrained a laugh. Dot was a woman, but she was certainly not a lady. Magnus happened to know for a fact that her husband would agree with him. Dot glanced at him with mirth, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Imogen brought her shoulders back and settled her napkin on her lap. “I know you said you want to make this a social call, but before we do that, I want to reassure you that IE will continue to handle Alec Lightwood’s contract with professionalism while keeping Gallant’s business interests at the forefront.”

Dot matched Imogen’s posture and met her eyes. “My husband is trans. It is a fact that he is open about now, but I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like if someone had tried to out him when he was struggling to be proud of the amazing man he is. This may be all business for you, Imogen, but the attack on LGBTQ people is quite personal to many of us.” There was no condescension in her tone, no judgment. “You don’t need to reassure me—your actions in support of Alec tell me everything I need to know about the professionalism of IE. That you have Magnus handling this process only solidifies my faith in the firm since I trust him implicitly. He is a wise man and a valuable advisor—which I’m sure you already use to your advantage.”

Imogen narrowed her eyes for only a fraction of a second before she was answering. “Magnus is one of IE’s strongest assets.”

Although they were discussing him as if he wasn’t in the room, let alone at the same table, Magnus couldn’t be offended. These were two of the most powerful women Magnus knew. Listening to their calculated word choices—weaving around each other like an intricate political dance—was fascinating.

Her point obviously made, Dot smiled serenely. “So, with that said, what can I do to help you?”

“I’ve written a statement as CEO of IE supporting Alec that will go public if needed. I”—Imogen paused and looked to Magnus—“ _We_ would like Gallant to do the same.”

“I’ll draft a statement for our own CEO to sign tomorrow.” Dot clasped her hands on the table and finally turned to Magnus. “Please let Alec know he has Gallant’s official support.”

Magnus nodded. “I will.”

This was not the route Imogen had envisioned for the meeting in their strategy session last night, but they had still arrived at the Imogen’s desired destination. Magnus considered that a success for all parties.

“I look forward to working with you, Magnus, and the entire staff of IE for years to come,” Dot added.

Imogen nodded and eased into her chair. “I do as well.”

“Good.” Dot picked up her menu. “Now, for the sake of bridge building…. We’re in Texas—let’s see who can eat the most steak.”

 

****

 

Despite the text Alec had just gotten from Magnus that Gallant was behind him one hundred percent, Alec’s palms were sweating.

He wanted to be known for being a good goalie, not for any of the shit that was going on in his life right now. If he didn’t find a way to take control back, then someone was going to rip it even farther away from him.

Alec flipped his phone in his hand, deciding whether or not to text Magnus and tell him that he was currently in coach’s office, when Garroway stalked in. He eyed Alec. “Is this an open door conversation or closed?”

Alec set his phone aside and sat up in his chair, elbows braced on the armrests and hands clasped together. “Closed, Coach.”

Garroway shut both of his office doors and headed behind his desk. He tilted back in his seat and steepled his fingers. “Alright, Lightwood. Talk to me.”

“I’m—” Alec took a deep breath. “I’m gay, Coach.” Garroway opened his mouth to respond and Alec held up his hand to stop him. “And I never thought I would be saying this, but that’s probably going to be the easiest part of this conversation.”

Garroway leaned forward. “Go ahead.”

“There’s someone who’s threatening to out me. Blackmailing me…or extortion? I’m not clear on what exactly it is. Anyway, he has pictures that make certain implications, and the media will have a field day if they get ahold of them.”

Garroway lifted an eyebrow. “Graphic pictures?”

“Not at all,” Alec rushed out. At least there was _one_ thing going for him in this. “Actually, they’re pretty tame. If you want to see what I mean, I can make sure you get copies—I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Besides that you’re gay.”

His coach didn’t stumble over the word gay one bit, or sound as if he was making any judgments about Alec because of it. Alec’s anxiety slinked down a notch.

“Not even that, really. Not anymore at least. Before this all happened, I’d already been in talks with my agency about a gradual coming out.”

“I see.” Garroway drummed his fingers on his knee. “So, what does this person want from you?”

“He’s demanding I stay in the closet while he uses my…presence in the media to benefit his business.”

Garroway winced.

“And there’s more,” Alec said apologetically.

“Jesus, Alec.”

Alec could only nod. He shared that sentiment. “I’m sure you saw the incident report with my mother from a few days ago.”

“I did,” Garroway confirmed. “I figured that’s what you wanted to talk about.”

“Yeah, well, she’s friends with the person blackmailing me, and wants to force me to do what he’s asking. I even had a search warrant served on my apartment last night—”

Garroway’s face clouded.

“They didn’t find anything, because there was nothing to find,” Alec said quickly. But his coach looked less than convinced. “My PR agency has ensured it won’t show up in the media because the cops didn’t find anything, but their scare tactics are getting uglier, and I need you to know all of this in case we can’t control it.”

“What were the cops looking for—exactly?”

Alec cleared his throat. “Documents that would prove I’m a co-conspirator with the assholes who stole my money.”

“I was here when you got that call,” Garroway said, jabbing his finger on the desk to punctuate every word. “You had no idea what was going on.”

“Which is exactly why there wasn’t anything for them to find,” Alec made sure to point out.

“Okay,” Garroway allowed, sitting back. “I’m with you.”

Alec scratched at the back of his head. “But here’s the hard part….”

“None of that was the hard part?” Garroway said, his eye wide in disbelief. “Are you trying to give me a stroke, Lightwood?”

He’d played for Luke Garroway for three years now. While he wouldn’t call their relationship anything close to a friendship, he respected and admired Garroway for the leader he was. He trusted Garroway. He could only hope that some of that trust was mutual.

Alec leaned forward, fingers going to his bracelet. “I’m here to ask you to keep all of this from the front office, Coach.”

Garroway lifted both of his eyebrows. “You’re serious?”

“I know what I’m asking of you, Coach. Hockey is my focus despite all of this. I want to win. And I want to keep playing for the Angels. But….”

Garroway hummed. “But your contract is coming up for renewal in about a month.”

“All of this will affect my negotiations if the front office hears anything.” Alec pulled his shoulders back, tried to appear more confident then he felt. “I can put you in touch with people at IE and Alicante Public Relations so you can see all of their planning for yourself. I’m just— I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I can’t keep this from the General Manager—”

“Coach—” Alec started to cut in.

Garroway held up his hand. “For _long_. I can’t keep this from him for long. But if anything happens before I talk to him, there’s very little I’m going to be able to do for you.”

It was the best answer he could’ve expected under the circumstances. “Yeah. Okay. Got it.”

Garroway leaned forward, forearms on his desk. “Alec. That you are playing some of the best hockey of your career is what matters to me the most. I’d like to see you on my ice next season too. Tell me how you want to handle coming out to the team when the time comes and I’ll have your back.”

Alec inhaled. Steeled himself. “Actually, Coach? I’d like the first line to know immediately. We’re talking about the players least likely to be traded after this year—the team leaders. I’m accountable to you and them. And all of us have to be able to trust each other completely on the ice.”

“You want to talk to them today?”

“Now, actually.” Alec bounced his knee, his nerves taking over. “If we have time.”

“Are you sure this won’t break their trust instead?”

“I’m not,” Alec answered honestly. He’d already run through every scenario he could come up with in his head, and, “Jace already knows and he’s behind me one hundred percent. Santiago…. I don’t think he’ll care either way. Pangborn I’m betting will be the same way. Velasquez is the only one I question.”

“He’s not the sensitive type. And he’s got a temper.”

Alec nodded.

“We’re only hours away from game two. Why do you want to press this now?”

Coming out to any of the players hadn’t been part of the plan Izzy had laid out, but he hadn’t been able to push the thought out of his head since he’d woken up in Magnus’ bed—alone.

“Because there’s someone I’m involved with and I can’t deny his importance in my life—no matter what the consequences are. The blackmail, my parents…. I can let all of that shit go on the ice if he’s at my side. He and hockey are the most important things to me right now. I’m fighting for my pride as a gay man _and_ an Angel, Coach. It’s not an either-or scenario for me—it’s both.”

Garroway scratched his nails across his jaw as he studied Alec. “Hard to say no when my goalie is telling me exactly what he needs in order to play even better than he already is.”

Alec smiled. Shrugged.

“What about Meliorn? You want him in here?”

“That fifth slot on the first line has been up for grabs all season. I’ll leave that one up to you. If you think he’s going to be sticking around, then include him.”

“Give me five minutes.” Garroway got to his feet and threw the door to the locker room open, bellowing as he walked out. “Wayland, in here now.”

Alec stood, clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace. Now that he’d gotten through talking to Garroway, this was the part he was most nervous about.

Jace came through the door and closed it behind him. “Hey—coach sent me in. Is this what I think it is?”

Alec shook his head. “Not the whole team. Just Coach and the first line.”

“You and Garroway already talked then?”

“Yeah.” Alec exhaled. “It was good.”

Jace clamped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s great, buddy.”

“I’m just—” Alec crossed his arms. “I’m nervous about them. Should I be doing this? Like right now?”

“Do you want to?”

“I’ve got to take back control somehow. This is one way I know how.”

“Nothing is more important than your happiness, bro.”

“Except for hockey?” Alec asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jace chuckled. “Right, except for hockey.”

There was a knock on the door, then Pangborn peeked his head inside. “Coach said he needed a minute?”

Jace waved him in.

“Either of you know what this is about?”

Alec didn’t have long to try and figure out how to answer that question because the door was opening wide and Coach, Santiago, and Velasquez were crowding in too.

Garroway closed the door and sat on the edge of his desk. Alec stood off to the side, his back to the wall and his arms still crossed, with Jace next to him. Pangborn and Velasquez dove into the two seats in front of Garroway’s desk and Santiago stood across from Alec—a bored expression on his face.

Getting called into the coach’s office wasn’t usually a good thing, but players knew it was better than being called up to the front office. Alec scanned the faces of his teammates and his coach, stifling the panic building in his chest. He was imploding the carefully constructed barriers he’d built between his professional and personal lives. It was necessary. Terrifying.

“Before anything is said,” Garroway started, “I need you all to understand that I expect the same high level of respect I always see with you five. Alec, lead us off.”

Alec struggled to come up with the right words, then decided _fuck it_. There was no right way to preface this.

“I’m gay.”

He let that sentence sit there as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. There was no going back now. Five sets of eyes stared back at him. No one said anything.

Jace bristled as the silence dragged on. He ground his jaw together. “If any of you has a problem with that, I’ll deal with it right now.”

Pangborn was the first to react. He put his hands up. “Whoa, no problem here. Just trying to work out why it matters for us to hear this.”

Alec nodded. Okay, that reaction he could work with. “I’m not out, but it won’t be long before I am. And there’s a chance someone may try to forcibly out me.”

Pangborn recoiled. “What the fuck, Lightwood?”

“Yeah, pretty much…that,” Alec replied. It was an accurate summary of the entire situation. “Whether or not that actually happens, though, I’m going to come out publicly. Before that, I needed you to know that yes, I’m gay _and_ I’m a hockey player. The Angels aren’t just the team I play for. I believe in our ability as a team to take this season all the way to finals, and my focus is being the best goalie for the Angels and the strongest teammate I can be to all of you.”

Bat swore under his breath and looked to Garroway. “No one else on the team knows?”

“And they won’t for now,” Garroway replied definitively. “When and how Alec decides to do that is his choice. Let me make this really fucking clear—this doesn’t get discussed with anyone else— _anyone._ Not your momma, your girlfriend of the day, or your hairdresser. No one says a word until Alec says go.”

Bat pointed a finger between Alec and Jace. “Are you two…?”

Jace glared at Bat. “Alec is my brother. Don’t be the asshole you are, Velasquez.”

Bat rushed to his feet and Jace took a step closer to him, defiant.

“Respect, gentlemen,” Garroway growled in warning.

Alec tensed as Bat got in Jace’s face. Bat’s fists were clenched. “I’m guessing you’ve known about this for years? Well, I’m just hearing this. Can I take a few fucking minutes to think about what this means for us as a team?”

Alec stepped forward, putting a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “He’s right, Jace.”

Jace eyed Bat for a second longer then nodded and stalked away.

Alec met Bat’s eyes. “Look, I know this isn’t optimal timing, but like I said, I may not have a choice on how this goes down. I needed you to hear this from me instead of a breaking news story. I just want to be known for being a good player, but because of who I am all the time—not just off the ice—I’m going to be known for being a gay player. It _is_ going to affect the team as a whole.”

Bat exhaled heavily and took a step back.

Alec looked to Raphael. “What do you have to say, Santiago?”

“You stop more pucks than you let in. You’ve been gay all along, so I’m assuming that skill set isn’t going to change by saying this out loud.”

“I thought Raphael was the most likely to be gay,” Pangborn said. “He dresses well and never picks up any puck bunnies.”

Raphael tipped his head, unperturbed. “That, _papá_ , is called class.”

Jace chuckled and Alec couldn’t help but smile.

Alec turned back to Bat. “Velasquez?”

“We’re okay on the…gay thing, I guess, but I’m wary on how this is going to affect the rest of our season.”

“I’m with you on that,” Alec conceded.

Garroway stood tall. “You’re the lead on this, Lightwood, so why don’t you tell us what comes next?”

“I’m, uh, I’m doing a goaltender clinic when we’re in Pittsburgh for You Can Play, and I’ll be stepping up my involvement with them over the next month.” He turned to his captain and best friend. “I’d like for you to go with me, Jace.”

“Yeah, Alec. Of course.”

Pangborn’s head swiveled around as he shared a look with Bat then Raphael. Bat gave a clipped nod and Raphael shrugged.

Pangborn met Alec’s eyes. “How do we sign up too?”

 

****

 

_Night of Game Two_

_Series Tally - Penguins lead one game to none_

 

“A statement from Gallant should come through my email over the next day or two,” Magnus said to Clary on the other end of the line, as he sipped at his scotch. “Make sure it gets to Isabelle immediately.”

“I will,” Clary agreed. “Are you watching the game?”

“Imogen flew back an hour ago, so I’m currently imbibing at the hotel bar waiting for it to start. Are you at the arena?”

“Just got here. I was running a bit late.”

Magnus’ phone vibrated and he glanced at his notifications.

“Hang on, Clary,” he said as he put the phone back to his ear. “Alec is texting me. I’ll call you back.”

“No it’s fine—I kind of want to stay on the line. I’ll wait.”

“Okay.”

Magnus opened the message from Alec.

_Talked to Coach and the first line today. They all know_

Magnus gaped, felt himself paling.

Alec had come out to his coach and other Angels’ players? He took a swig of his drink and texted back, _Is everything okay?_

_It’s good. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it later. I have to go but text Clary. Tell her I wanted you to see the thing_

Magnus stared at his screen in disbelief then frantically typed back, _The thing? Alexander. You just came out in your workplace and you’re more worried about me seeing a THING????_

_I have to go, Magnus :) Twenty thousand people and playoffs and all. We’ll talk after the game_

He could picture Alec smiling as he sent off that message. So Magnus replied, _:(_

That was followed by a swift, _*winking emoji*_

Well, then. Apparently Alec was freshly out, gay man who was teasing his shell-shocked non-lover via text. Magnus couldn’t deny that Alec really did seem good, so he gave in. _Good luck tonight, Alexander_

_I don’t need it. I’ve got you :)_

Magnus’ heart tripped up at that. He smiled and put his cell back to his ear. “Alec said that he wants you to show me ‘the thing.’ If he’s sexting with me through you, then he and I are going to need to have a conversation.”

Clary laughed. “Nothing like that, babes. I’m forwarding the pic now. It’s the new addition to Alec’s helmet. There’s a circular piece that protects the back of his head, and he’s wearing a new design tonight.”

His cell vibrated and Magnus opened the text from Clary. The formerly drab piece of equipment was now a dramatic work of art, all bold lines and bright color. The centerpiece was the Angels sword—blade set afire—striking down the middle of outstretched golden wings.

Magnus inhaled sharply as he enlarged the picture, taking in the details of the fire coming off the sword. “Are those rainbow flames?”

It was subtle and yet unmistakable.

“Do you like it?” Clary asked hesitantly. “I had to go a bit faster on the design than I would’ve liked. And he hasn’t really settled on a vision for the rest of it yet….”

“You designed this?”

“Alec asked me to. It’s, um— The shape of the feathers on the wings is actually the same as the bracelet you gave him.”

Magnus’ heart clenched. On the TV above the bar, the Angels had just taken to the ice. Alec was in goal, going through his usual pre-game ritual of cutting his skates through the ice in the crease. He knew that somewhere in the arena, Max and Izzy were doing the exact same thing.

“Was the inclusion of that detail creative license on your part, or a request?”

“I think you already know that answer,” Clary said.

There was no more freefall to be had, Magnus had crashed face first into love.

Magnus let the warmth of that realization settle in as one by one, the players on the first line skated up to Alec and cuffed him on the neck, banging their helmets against his mask. It was a pre-game ritual Magnus had never seen before, but could guess exactly what it meant.

Magnus spoke through the pride swelling in his chest. “Biscuit?”

There was a distinct smile in Clary’s voice. “Yes, Magnus?”

He remembered Clary perched on the edge of his desk two months ago as she’d begged Magnus to take Alec on as a client.

_I promise you’ll love him._

Magnus could barely get his voice past the tightening in his throat. “You were right about this Lightwood sibling too.”

 

****

 

Alec glanced at the game clock and took a deep breath.

It was already the second period and neither team had been able to put a point on the board so far. The styles of the two teams were so similar that they were trading shot for shot, play for play. The pace was just as furious as it had been in the last game, but this time, the Angels were better prepared for it.

There had been a point in the first round where everything had clicked for the team. They’d been back and forth since then, but tonight when the first line was on the ice together, their play was flawless. They were playing as one.

And for the first time in Alec’s career, he had taken to the ice as one man. All of who he was. Gay. A goalie. And proud.

He accepted the weight of his gear for what it was—safety—and deflected every shot sent his way, the taps of sticks to his pads from the first line was all the reassurance he needed that they were with him in this.

He’d always believed he needed to drain himself for the game—leave everything on the ice—but now he realized….

When he played as his true self, he had more to give than could ever be taken away.

 

****

 

“You don’t look like the hockey type, but I haven’t seen your eyes leave that screen all night,” the bartender said as she placed her elbows on the bar to lean down across from Magnus.

Magnus sipped at his scotch and only took his eyes off the screen when there was a break in play. The woman was stunning. A flash of skin where her shirt was unbuttoned just before the line of impropriety was breached—this was a five-star hotel, after all—yet hinted at what was only a few finger snaps away. She had dark hair and soulful eyes.

She was just his type.

“Enlighten me,” he responded. “What does a hockey type look like?”

She tucked her jet-black braids behind her ear and leaned in closer. “In my experience? Not nearly as well-dressed as you.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me, darling?”

“Definitely,” the woman said, all brash confidence.

“Two months ago I would’ve welcomed much more than flirting—you are a gorgeous woman who deserves to be appreciated.”

Her generous lips ticked up into a smile. “But?”

“But now I have a man at home who is very much the hockey type. And I don’t spend much time fretting over his wardrobe choices since what’s underneath is much more appealing.”

“You’re a lucky man.”

Magnus glanced at the TV again. Alec was in perfect form. Strong on his skates and sure of his movements.

He’d said it to Alec first and Alec had repeated it in the text just before this game— _I don’t need luck. I have you_.

But Magnus couldn’t deny that there had been something in the universe spinning in his favor to place Alec into his life. Fate, karma, luck…. Whatever name he gave it, or didn’t, his life was better because Alec was part of it.

He set his glass down and met her eyes again. “I am.”

 

****

 

Alec stood in the net, surveying the chessboard in front of him. He didn’t know why it had taken him a game and a half to realize this, but he could see it all so clearly now. He’d been focusing on the wrong team.

Seeking out which Penguins’ weaknesses to exploit would be a matter of identifying his own teams’ weaknesses.

Freeman and Santiago’s speed. Jace and the left winger who skated with just as much abandon. Velasquez’s barely contained temper butting up against a bruising Penguins’ defenseman. Pangborn’s tightly controlled defense of the net and the D-man who guarded over the Penguins’ goal with the protectiveness of a bodyguard. Even their goalie played with a similar style as Alec. Alec knew what to do to keep his own teammates’ shots out of goal, so he started to pay more attention to the way the Penguins’ goalie defended.

It took only minutes for Alec to uncover an opening.

Tied zero-zero at the second intermission, Alec pulled Raphael aside before they headed to the locker room.

Raphael wiped the sweat of his brown. “¿ _Que pasa_?”

“Their goalie drops his right knee first when protecting against low shots coming from the left. It’s barely there, but there’s a difference. If you’re fast enough, you can take advantage of that.”

Raphael tugged off his glove, scowling. “ _If_ I’m fast enough?”

Alec smirked and headed for the tunnel. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

The atmosphere of the locker room was completely different than it had been during the first game. The entire team was focused on Garroway as he ran through the plan of attack for the third period. They were all tired and sweat-soaked, but twenty minutes later they rushed out of the tunnel with the same energy as the Penguins.

Within minutes of being back out on the rink, Santiago snagged the puck and Alec held his breath. Santiago blurred around the D-men, holding back until the moment the Penguins’ goalie started to drop into a butterfly before he whipped his stick back and drove the puck through the goalie’s five hole.

Across the ice Santiago raised both hands, the lights on the scoreboard flashed, the Angels celebration song blared out of the speakers, and fans pounded the boards.

Santiago skated up to him, a wry smile on his lips. “That fast enough for you, Lightwood?”

Alec shrugged and glanced up at the scoreboard. Zero-one. “I don’t know. I think I may need to see you do it again.”

 

****

 

Magnus grinned as Raphael was piled on when he put the puck into the net for the third time that period.

The Angels were up zero to three, and there was only two minutes left in the game.

“Your team is killing it, Magnus,” the bartender, Kiara, said as she filled a glass with ice.

“Of course they are, Kiara. They’re going to make it all the way to finals.”

Kiara placed the scotch in front of him. “On the house for the man who may have just made me a hockey type.”

Magnus smiled and sat back, for once savoring the last minutes of the game instead of being a nervous wreck.

When the final buzzer sounded, Alec whipped off his mask, a world-bending grin lighting up his face. He’d come to out to his teammates, and had his second shutout of the post-season. Magnus was smiling just as hard as Alec.

“Damn,” Kiara breathed out. “These Angels may have actual heavenly blood. Those players of yours are fine.”

Magnus lifted his glass to Kiara, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Alec. He looked triumphant. Carefree. Unabashedly sexy. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

 

****

 

Alec laughed at the picture Magnus had sent him and settled into his seat on the team bus. Jace leaned over and peeked at the picture of Magnus—a drink in his hand, with a woman with kiss-pursed lips almost at Magnus’ cheeks, her fingers in the shape of an A. The text below said, _Spreading the gospel of the Blazing Angels in Texas_

“Our agent’s got game.” Jace knocked his shoulder against Alec’s and Alec chuffed.

 _Won’t be able to talk tonight_ , he typed back to Magnus. _We’re already on our way to Pittsburgh. Coach wanted us to get some extra time on the ice there tomorrow_

Magnus’ reply was immediate. _Call me when you get time to yourself. I want to hear everything about today_

There was a pause then the dots popping up indicating that Magnus was typing more.

_Love the new design_

Alec grinned. _Thanks :) It was all Clary_

_It is bold. That is all you_

Bold wasn’t a word that Alec would have ever associated with himself. But maybe being with Magnus made him more like that.

 _The design finally feels like me_ , he sent back. _I finally feel like me_

_I’m proud of you, Alexander_

He was proud of himself, but hearing that from Magnus meant everything to him. _I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow_

_Travel safely, my angelic savior of vulnerable nets_

Alec chuckled. _You too_

 

****

 

Magnus scanned the departures board at the Dallas airport to verify his flight to LA was still on time. Tearing his eyes away from his cell phone had been nearly impossible since Alec had only been able to text him so far today and Magnus was waiting for his call. Impatiently.

He turned away from the board and headed for his airline’s lounge when his cell rang. It wasn’t who he’d been hoping to hear from, but still a welcome distraction.

“Tessa,” he greeted as he picked up the call.

“I take it you’re not a plane yet,” Tessa said.

“Not quite yet. How did you know I’m traveling today?”

“I was just texting with Alec.”

“Hang on.” Magnus entered the lounge and pulled up his membership card on his phone, flashing it to gain entrance. He put his cell back to his ear. “Ah yes, the man with more ice-related responsibilities than Jack Frost.”

Tessa was quiet for a moment. “What?”

“Not important. How may I assist you?”

“There’s actually something we need to discuss…in regards to Alec’s superstitions.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “You sound hesitant, Tessa. Did you already speak to Alec about this?”

“I didn’t. Here’s the thing, Magnus. I stumbled across a connection this morning that might make things more difficult for you, so I wanted to give you the chance to decide what to do with it before it was brought to his attention.”

Magnus dropped into a seat next to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the terminal. “Go ahead.”

“When Alec is playing at home and he spends the night at your place, he wins. When he doesn’t, he loses. They’ve played six games in the playoffs at home. Four nights not with you—four losses. Two nights at your place—”

A chill passed down Magnus’ spine. “Two wins. And what exactly am I supposed to do with this information?”

“You don’t have to do anything with it.”

“I can’t keep it from Alec. His superstitions are important to him.”

“I figured that would be your answer.”

Magnus stared out the windows, unsure how to respond.

“Anyway, I have to go,” Tessa said before he could find the right words. “I’m heading into rehearsal now.”

“Have a good day, Tessa.”

Magnus pushed up and got a cup of coffee, stopping by the bar for a drop—or ten—of Bailey’s. He settled into his seat again and opened up his email—actively avoiding all thoughts of what Tessa’s discovery would mean for Alec and him.

Just when he’d started to fall into a rhythm with his daily business, Alec’s name popped up on his screen.

“Done with practice?” Magnus greeted Alec.

“Yeah. For the day.”

There was a hesitancy to Alec’s tone that gave Magnus pause. “What is it, Alexander?”

“I swear….” Alec sighed. “I don’t know. It’s like I’m seeing the world in a whole different way than I did yesterday.”

“Welcome to life with the closet door open,” Magnus said, trying to smooth the tension he could hear in Alec’s voice.

Alec laughed uneasily. “It’s just— I’m learning to take risks. And I know I have to stop letting fear rule me. I have to trust that I know what’s best for me. I’m doing this all one step at a time, so carefully, because that’s who I am. Change _terrifies_ me and all I’ve been doing lately is changing. And—”

Alec went silent and Magnus waited him out, the bitterness of the coffee churning in his stomach.

“I can’t do this anymore, Magnus.”

Magnus’ heart thudded. Alec wasn’t saying that he was done with Magnus…. Was he?

“Do what?” Magnus asked, icy fear skittering through his veins.

“I don’t know. Any of it. All of it.”

Magnus gripped his phone tighter. “What do you need, Alexander? Just tell me and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.”

“I want—”

“No,” he cut in. “Not what you want. What do you _need_?”

There was the sound of a chair creaking, then irregular breaths in his ear—as if Alec was on the other end of the line running every possible answer through his lips, but refusing to attach any words to them until they were the right ones.

Then, “I need you here with me, Magnus.”

It had been a week of surprises and revelations, but nothing could’ve prepared Magnus for Alec answering that question with as much confidence—sheer, unapologetic boldness—as he did.

Magnus had feared that maybe Alec had reached his breaking point. That Alec had grown tired of Magnus’s presence complicating his life, but no….

Alec was asking for _more_ from him.

Magnus looked at the departure board clicking off flights to places all over the world. If he cancelled this afternoon’s meeting, he would have almost twenty-four hours before he needed to be back in LA for the meeting with Jace’s agent. Between the ticket change fee and a new last minute fare, he was going to be out thousands.

He would’ve emptied his bank account.

“I’ll call you when I land in Pittsburgh, Alexander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You Can Play is an actual organization that does very cool work. check them out if you get a chance.
> 
> as usual, when i'm not in my hidey hole or writing cave, i'm on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx
> 
> now to the good stuff....
> 
> a teaser for ch 15:
> 
> Alec hung up with Magnus—a thrumming sense of expectation making his heart pound—leaned back in the hotel desk chair, and immediately dialed a contact Magnus had given him.
> 
> “This is Anna,” the woman on the other end of the line answered.
> 
> “Hey, Anna. It’s Alec Lightwood. We met in LA…. I was with Magnus Bane?”
> 
> “Greetings, Alec,” Anna said warmly. “How may I help you?”
> 
> Alec pushed up from the chair, needing to move. “You don’t happen to have any contacts in Pittsburgh do you?”
> 
> “I have an employee there you can trust.”
> 
> “Good.” He walked toward the windows, his entire body relaxing. “That’s good.”
> 
> “How discreet do you need to be?”
> 
> Alec pulled his shoulders back, looked out over the downtown through his window and thought about how to answer that.
> 
> He’d been in Pittsburgh many times before, but—just like everything else today—it looked…different. Filled with possibilities instead of yet another city where he’d sequestered himself behind a locked hotel door because he’d thought that was safer.
> 
> Jace was going to have to find something to do with his time tonight because Alec wasn’t staying in.
> 
> Magnus was going to be here in a few hours.
> 
> “It’s not discretion as much as it is…privacy. I need you to help get Magnus to me.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus realizes he’ll go to any lengths for alec

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 182 of the shadowhunters hiatus. we’ve now reached a point where we’re closer to the season two premiere than the season one finale. thank fuck.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TWO DAYS [TO GET A PICTURE OF MALEC TOUCHING](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Ct70Q6GWcAAousr.jpg) (i'm so ALIVE!!!!)
> 
> *ahem*
> 
> anyway, back to business....
> 
> i have to say thank you to @darquebane for the kickass cover art for this chapter. you're so fucking talented, babe. and to @isabelles-biwood who won my 4k celebration--i hope you love rosa as much as i do!
> 
> to jaimie, lora, and meg--i'm sorry for torturing you. please still love me?
> 
> to sandra, sas, mia, and lucile. sanity is only possible because of you. thank you.
> 
> if you’re live tweeting i’ll be checking #itsb. there’s a shoe marketing company who decided to try to adopt that same hashtag AFTER i’d already started using it. let’s see how interesting we can make their searches for this chapter ;)
> 
> this chapter is 34k words. pretty sure no one is surprised by that anymore. so let’s do this….

Alec was frozen in place by Magnus’ response that he was coming to Pittsburgh.

He opened his mouth to reply, but all coherent thought had been wiped from his brain. He hadn’t called Magnus with the intention of asking Magnus to come see him, yet those were the words that had come out of his mouth. And Magnus had responded to that far-flung request by saying he was willing to fly across the country—to Alec—simply because Alec has asked him to.

“You— I don’t—” Alec sputtered into the phone. “You— You’re serious?”

Magnus laughed softly. “It’s what you need, right?”

Alec bent forward in the hotel desk chair, facing his battered duffel bag filled with gear, and propped his elbows on his knees as he gave that question the serious consideration it deserved.

Ten minutes ago, he’d returned from practice with his teammates to find the hotel restaurant and lobby packed with families who’d made the trip from New York to support their boyfriends, husbands, and fathers. An ache had ripped through him, right in the middle of the lobby, watching his teammates surrounded by their loved ones, sharing hugs and laughs together.

The realization that he couldn’t have that comfort, that reassurance, because of his current situation was…painful.

He’d called Magnus because he’d wanted to be reassured that he wasn’t in this alone. That someone else was fighting with him through all of the bullshit he faced. He’d just wanted to hear Magnus’ voice.

Then Magnus had asked Alec what he needed. Not what Alec desired, what was _necessary_. And what should have been an easy question to answer had thrown Alec into an emotional tailspin. What did he need? Physically he was fine. He’d get food and rest in the next couple hours, and despite the ever-looming threat of Sebastian Morgenstern, he wasn’t in any immediate danger. But mentally…. Everything felt different since coming out to his coach and teammates.

He _wanted_ reminders of home, to be confident in his play tomorrow, and to be proud of the small steps he’d taken in the last few days….

But what he needed?

When Alec dug to the heart of it—when he thought about the thread of commonality woven into his life over the last two months—his answer to what he needed was obvious.

Magnus was a part of all of those things. So all he really needed was _Magnus_.

It was a selfish request, but answering Magnus with his truth was important. “Yeah. It is.”

“Then I’ll be there,” Magnus said without hesitation.

Alec was floored. Ecstatic, really. But….

He spared a glance at the hotel clock and sighed. “Having you here…. It _is_ what I need. But here’s the thing….”

“Yes?”

Alec ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I have an eleven pm curfew. It’s a game night, and we’re on the road. Coach is always strict about us being back in our hotel rooms by a certain time, and with the faith he’s put in me in the last few days…. I want you here—I _need_ you here—but I’m only going to have hours if you do come. I don’t want you to push your life aside for a few hours with me.”

“Alexander?”

Alec swore he could hear a smile on Magnus’ lips. “Yes, Magnus?”

“I need to get off the phone now so I can book a flight taking off immediately.”

Alec chuckled. “Okay.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Alec hung up with Magnus—a thrumming sense of expectation making his heart pound—leaned back in the desk chair and thought about what came next. He was going to need help to pull this off. But Jace was hopeless when it came to romance. Lydia would be willing to talk it through with him, but he’d asked enough of her lately. Max would probably just tell him to stock up on condoms and lube. He couldn’t go to Clary—he didn’t know how much Magus had shared with her, and Magnus _was_ her boss. Simon…? Alec chuckled. Just no. And Izzy…. She couldn’t know that Magnus was coming to see him. Not yet.

Alec started to scroll through his contacts and froze at a name at the top of the list, hitting the button to dial. This was a contact Magnus himself had given him. Someone Magnus had said that he trusted implicitly.

“This is Anna,” the woman on the other end of the line answered.

“Hey, Anna. It’s Alec Lightwood. We met in LA…. I was with Magnus Bane?”

“Greetings, Alec,” Anna said with a warmth he hadn’t anticipated. “How may I help you?”

Alec pushed up from the chair, needing to move. “You don’t happen to have any contacts in Pittsburgh, do you?”

“I have an employee there you can trust.”

“Good.” He walked toward the windows, his entire body relaxing. “That’s good.”

“How discreet do you need to be?”

Alec pulled his shoulders back, looked out over the downtown through his window and thought about how to answer that.

He’d been to Pittsburgh many times before, but—just like everything else today—it looked…different. Filled with possibilities instead of yet another city where he’d sequestered himself behind a locked hotel door because he’d thought it was safer.

“It’s not discretion as much as it is…privacy. I need you to help get Magnus to me.”

“We can arrange transportation from the airport for him,” Anna said without hesitation. “Will his destination be your hotel or somewhere else?”

“Actually, I’d like to take him _out_. But I don’t know how to make that happen. Or where.” Alec stitched his eyebrows together. This was the part he hated. He had to remind himself that this was temporary, that he wouldn’t be hiding his relationship with Magnus forever. It wasn’t right, but it wasn’t permanent. “We can’t be seen in public together right now, and my hotel definitely isn’t an option.”

“My colleague Rosa will contact you with private dining recommendations. Will he also be needing overnight accommodations?”

“I don’t know for sure what his flight schedule is yet, so let’s book something just in case. But it shouldn’t be the Omni. That’s where the team is staying.”

“We can handle that. Could you hold for a moment, please?”

“Yeah, of course,” Alec obliged.

He heard Anna speaking to someone—as if she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth—in a language Alec didn’t know, then there was a rustling, and the sound of Anna’s voice coming over the line clearly again. “Do you have any guidelines on budget?”

“No. Whatever it takes to make this happen. Just tell me how much the best options are going to cost and I’ll pay it. And obviously, whatever your fee is…. I’ll pay that too.” Alec laughed nervously. “I don’t know how all of this works.”

“We can settle that later. I’ll make sure you have final approval on everything before any reservations are placed. Can we contact you at this number?”

“Yeah, texts would be best. I have an event I’m leaving for soon, but I’ll be able to answer messages during breaks.”

“Understood. Is there anything else I can do for you, Alec?”

“No. I don’t think so—” Alec pivoted on his heel, surveying his room as he thought about what he’d need for tonight. He didn’t want to show up empty-handed. “You know what? Yes. I’ll text you a screenshot. Let me know if your person here can find it before Magnus arrives.”

“We’ll take care of everything, Alec.” Anna’s voice gentled. “Go enjoy your event.”

Alec smiled. “I will. Thanks, Anna.”

He hung up and glanced at the clock on his cell. It was just after one. The You Can Play goaltender clinic started in less than an hour. And just a few hours after that, Magnus would be here.

 _Welcome to life with the closet door open_ , Magnus had said to him.

He had no personal context, no past experience, to frame the trajectory of where his life went from here. No biases to skew his expectations either. With his closet door merely cracked open, he had only hints of what the path ahead of him would look like.

But if the view was this good now, he couldn’t wait until he could step fully out.

 

****

 

_Text me your flight number when you’re booked_

Magnus read the text from Alec and replied with a screenshot of his e-ticket. _Couldn’t get on a nonstop flight, so I’m_ _arriving at 7pm. Leaving for LA again at 9am tomorrow morning. Where should I meet you?_

The text bubbles popped up as Magnus made his way to his gate. _Car will be waiting for you. Don’t worry about anything. I’ve got it all covered_

Magnus arched an eyebrow at that. He glanced up just long enough to make sure the path in front of him was clear, then typed back, _I thought logistics was my forte?_

All he received in response was, _:)_

Well. That text was decidedly vague. And…flirtatious? _What exactly do you have planned for me, Alexander?_

Seconds later Alec’s reply came through, _Just sit back and relax. I’m in control._

Magnus slammed into a man standing in the walkway, fumbling his phone. The man grunted and eyed Magnus.

“My apologies,” Magnus said, patting the man on the shoulder. “He’s in control. I, however, am most certainly _not_.”

Magnus left the bewildered man in his wake and glanced at his phone again. During his accidental jostle, he’d typed out a random string of letters in the reply box. He re-read Alec’s text, confirming it said what he thought. When the implications behind it hadn’t changed by Magnus’ third viewing, Magnus swallowed and hit send on the gibberish reply. It was scarily accurate for how he was feeling.

Alec’s reply didn’t help. _I’ll take that as a good thing :)_

Magnus took a deep breath. For once, he had someone else who wanted to take care of him. Someone who was making plans for him—for them. Someone whom Magnus trusted. Alec had told him to relax, so he tried to internalize that command. But by the time he’d passed by his gate, twice, he’d decided there was no way he’d be able to remain calm with what was likely waiting for him in Pittsburgh.

He’d seen enough Angels’ games to fully understand how Alec carried himself when he was in control.

He clicked on his camera and set it to the front so he could check his makeup and hair, realizing quickly that he appeared just as harried as he felt. He saw a near mirror image of the night in LA when he’d stood in his hotel bathroom and told himself that he absolutely wasn’t going to fuck Alec, and he certainly wasn’t going to fall in love with him….

Magnus sighed.

Well, that second part was already out of the running.

And now there was the connection that Tessa had discovered. And the fact that Magnus was currently waiting to board a flight to spend time, alone, with Alec….

If that first line wasn’t crossed tonight, then how were they going to handle being in the same apartment without any physical contact? What was he going to tell Imogen? How was he going to make it to the negotiation table for Alec?

What was he _doing_?

Magnus groaned and opened his messages, texting the one person who would give it to him straight—since his entire thought process was as not-straight as it could get.

 _Ragnor_ , he typed to, well, Ragnor. _Help. Alexander._

The response was nearly immediate, _I am in the middle of a lecture_

Magnus rolled his eyes. _Don’t lie to dissuade me. It’s unattractive_

A minute went by, then a picture came through—of a lecture hall filled with students.

Magnus was unimpressed. It appeared Ragnor was working overtime to put him off. _That could’ve been saved in your photos_ , he typed back.

Another minute passed before his phone pinged with a video notification. Magnus arched an eyebrow and hit play. Now the camera was in motion, and so were the students, a sea of confused faces greeting in half-hearted chorus, “Hello, Magnus,” then the camera panned to Ragnor’s smug face.

Magnus huffed. _Exactly how many green jackets do you own?_

_I won’t be satisfied until you are cursing my fashion sense on your deathbed_

_No fatalities needed. We’re already there_ , he insisted. _What the hell are you doing texting me if you really are in the middle of a class?_

Two minutes went by this time, then another video of the same lecture hall—focus still on the confused students—and Ragnor’s voice saying, “Magnus would like to know why I am texting him back during class. Does anyone want to make a supposition?” A girl in the front row raised her hand slowly. “Because every thought coming out of our mouths today is unoriginal?” The camera panned back to Ragnor, one eyebrow crooked in a very self-satisfying manner.

Magnus had to laugh. _The next generation of thought leaders is in your hands, Ragnor_

Magnus expected a snarky response, but instead received from Ragnor, _Have you admitted to yourself that you are in love with Alec yet?_

Magnus gaped. _What?_

_If there’s hope for you, then maybe there’s hope for them_

Magnus scowled. _Yes. I have_

_Then go fuck him already and stop bothering me. I have impressionable minds to mould_

Magnus texted back a middle finger emoji.

He had a bad habit of doing exactly the opposite of whatever Ragnor advised, and he hadn’t listened to Ragnor when he’d insisted Magnus would eventually fall in love with Alec.

This, though…?

Perhaps it was time to take Ragnor’s advice into consideration.

Magnus sighed and queued to board the plane when his zone was called. He’d arrive with his expectations firmly in check and see what evolved in the few hours they had together.

“Alexander is in control,” he whispered to himself.

His skin prickled with anticipation.

 

****

 

Alec skated backwards, a line of three teenage goalies on one side of him, and two on the other. “Being a strong skater is the most important aspect of being a good goalie.”

One of the tallest goalies—Cortez—nodded, fumbling on his skates when he tried to look at Alec. Alec didn’t verbally correct his stance or reach out to make sure Cortez didn’t fall to the ice. All of the kids in the clinic were just as awkward as he’d been then, just as fresh and excited about the game. As inconceivable as it was to Alec, they were nervous about being on the same ice as him. He’d been much older the first time he’d met a professional goalie, and he remembered being unable to form a coherent sentence or stop from blushing—but he still couldn’t process anyone reacting that way around _him_. He didn’t need to make them feel more self-conscious than they already were. Like him, they already knew their weaknesses. He didn’t need to pinpoint the obvious for them.

Truthfully, there was a hell of a lot more he could learn from them than he could teach them.

Unlike Alec, all of these kids were out—something Alec hadn’t even dreamed of at their age. There were rainbows, triangles, parents wearing ally buttons, and the rink was circled with multi-colored flags that Alec would have to ask Magnus the meaning of later. All of the coaches and volunteers wore sweatshirts with the You Can Play logo emblazoned on the front, leaving no doubt what all of the kids here had in common. Despite that, this clinic wasn’t about their orientation or gender identity. They just wanted a safe place to play.

Alec would do everything he could to give that to them—here and in the years to come.

Cortez righted himself and shook off his misstep with only a faint stain on his cheeks. “Coach says that moving on the ice has to be second nature.”

“He’s giving you solid advice,” Alec replied. “As goalies, we have to react without taking time to think about our feet. I spent a lot of time on the ice with Jace outside of practice to become a better skater.”

Cutting an effortless line in the ice in front of Alec, Jace grinned. “You still have a lot to learn.”

Alec chuffed.

“I’m thinking we should put the pads on Wayland and see how he holds up in the net,” Pangborn interjected, earning chuckles from the kids.

They’d divided off at the beginning of the clinic. Santiago and Velasquez were down at the other end of the rink working with a second group of kids and the Penguins’ goalie—whom Alec hadn’t expected to see at all here today—while Pangborn was paired up with Jace and him. Just like during a game, the three Angels had found their groove fast, but it had taken thirty minutes into the clinic to get the kids to talk to them, let alone laugh. At least they were making progress now.

The coach’s whistle blew and all heads snapped in his direction. “Cortez, Smith, Jones, and McMillan—you’re over here with Pangborn working on defensive communication. March, you’ve got fifteen with Lightwood and Wayland.”

The other four goalies skated off and Alec faced the one still at his side. “Marcus, right?”

Marcus nodded, gaze bouncing between Alec and Jace, eyes wide.

There was little Alec could do to set him at ease. And when it really came down to it, all of these goalies had signed up for this clinic because they wanted to be better. He thought about what he would’ve wanted to hear from a pro when he was around Marcus’ age. “You have our undivided attention for fifteen minutes. So tell me what you think you need to work on.”

“Um, yeah. I have all these…weak spots? Can’t seem to cover enough of the net no matter how I hold myself.”

Alec nodded. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

Half of Alec’s age, and yet Alec could clearly remember he’d had the same frustration. “Look at me—I’m six foot three. When I have all my gear on I take up a good percentage of the net. You have a few more years of growing to do. You’ll get there.”

Marcus hiked up an eyebrow. He looked less than convinced. “What if I don’t?”

“I don’t follow.”

“What if I don’t get much taller? Not everyone can look like…you. Like a pro is supposed to look.”

Alec sputtered.

He heard barely a breath of laughter from Jace, then Jace was leaning in to talk to Marcus. “Want to know a secret about Alec?”

Marcus spared a glance at Alec. Alec crossed his arms—as best as he could with the gloves on—and glared at Jace.

“I don’t know, man,” Marcus said. “He looks…perturbed.”

Jace cackled at that, and Alec could barely hold on to his scowl.

“He always looks that way,” Jace said, undeterred. “Anyway, he was like a baby deer on the ice when he was your age. From what I’ve seen so far, you’re way better than he was—”

“Jace,” Alec groaned.

Marcus stifled a laugh with his mitt.

One of Jace’s dimples popped out as he grinned. “He was all gangly limbs and oversized teeth when I first met him.”

“At least I still have all my original teeth,” Alec protested.

“A puck to the mouth is a rite of passage!”

“One I’m glad I never had to go through.” Alec turned to Marcus. “They say goalies are a little unstable, but at least we chose a mask with a cage.”

Marcus grinned as he shrugged.

Jace scoffed and continued. “Anyway, Alec grew into his gear and he worked hard—harder than any other player I’ve ever skated with. He wasn’t working to be a professional player when the scouts came looking—he wanted to be better for himself. He played because he loved it.”

Alec smiled at Jace’s description of him. “Still do.”

“Me too,” Marcus replied softly.

Alec clapped him on the shoulder. “Then you start with that as your foundation. Look at it this way—how tall you end up being is never something that’s going to be under your control, that's just who you are. Focus on strengthening the things you can control. You can practice your footwork so your reaction time is faster. You can spend extra time in the net perfecting your technique, and extra time in the gym building your strength. None of us can eliminate all limitations, but we _can_ change how we react to them. That applies just as much on the ice as it does out there.” Alec tipped his chin up. “Why don’t I put my gear on and we can work on stance and reading offensive player movements? We can trade places taking shots in net.”

Marcus glanced nervously as Jace. “Against him?”

“He’s not as good as he thinks he is.”

“I’m better,” Jace proclaimed.

“We’ll see about that, Wayland,” Alec threw over his shoulder as he skated for the bench. On the way he passed by Pangborn and the group of four teens around him—riveted to his every word. Emil’s back was to him, but Alec could hear what he was saying.

“Our goalie knows how to guide us from the net. It’s a gift in this league and for every player on our team. He’s the only player on the ice for the entire game, which means we rely on him in a very different way than any other player. It’s his job to talk to us, and he’s excellent at it. Exceptional goalies like Lightwood give us direction in the middle of a chaotic game, and it can make the difference between winning and losing. If there’s one thing I want you to take away today, it’s to be like Lightwood on that—communicate from the net.”

Alec felt a blush crawling up his cheeks as he flipped over the boards to where he’d stashed his duffel bag packed with gear.

Surveying the ice from the bench wasn’t a view he was used to, so Alec took a few seconds to study the rink and take in the enormity of him being here. There was a part of him that wished Magnus could have been here to see it too. To see his reaction. But an even bigger part of him was proud he was doing this as Alec, not Magnus’ Alexander—completely for himself.

He dug through his bag and picked out through his gear, choosing what he’d need to stay safe in practice instead of getting fully dressed. Just as he was picking up his mask, he caught the ping of a text coming in from Rosa.

_Apologies, Alec. We can’t locate this anywhere in Pittsburgh or close enough to have one brought in before tonight_

It had been a far-fetched request, and Alec had known that, which is why he’d done a Google search earlier for a backup plan. He took a screenshot of his browser page and sent it off to Rosa. _What about going here?_

Her reply came through within seconds, _We can make that happen. Your dinner reservations are set as well. A private room_

At least that was settled. He and Rosa had been trading texts up until Alec had started the clinic, and where Magnus would spend the night had been the most difficult part of planning.

 _And the loft?_ , he typed back.

_Booked as well. I’m picking up the keys now_

Alec smiled. _Perfect. Thank you_

He dropped his cell into his bag, noting that it was less than three hours before Magnus landed, and tried to stifle the fluttering in his stomach as he settled his mask over his head.

When he got back out to ice, Jace was taking shots on goal and coaching Marcus through an offensive player’s different approaches to the goal.

Marcus was scowling.

“What’s up?” Alec asked as he put his stick on top of the net and readjusted his mitt.

Marcus tipped his chin up at Jace. “He’s holding back.”

Of course Jace was—the kid was fourteen. Alec picked up his stick and put his back to Jace. “You want him to really take a shot?”

“Well, yeah.”

Alec smirked. He liked this kid. “Then let me give you a hint, goalie to goalie. Where Jace is aiming for looks completely unpredictable—but it’s not. Did you see how his eyes are different colors? And see how the darker spot stands out? Focus on his darker eye instead of the puck—he glances where he’s going to shoot. I could never use that kind of a strategy in a game—things are moving much too fast—but in practice, it irks Jace to no end that I can head him off.”

Marcus nodded. “Got it.”

Alec clapped him on the back and called out to Jace. “He wants the full Wayland experience.”

Jace raised an eyebrow. A non-verbal question of just how much power he was supposed to put into his shot.

“The man wants to be challenged,” Alec replied. “You going to back down?”

“This is going to be interesting,” he heard Pangborn say, and realized everyone was watching Jace and Marcus now.

Alec backed up to the corner as Jace picked up a puck at center ice and took off for the net at full speed. Marcus set up, keeping his eyes on Jace. His stance was too tight and there was a hell of a lot of net left unprotected because he was so much smaller than Alec, but Marcus had an unerring focus that Alec hadn’t been able to maintain at that age. Jace deked left, letting the puck go—in a shot that was on par with the power he put in for practice—and Alec was sure the puck was going in. But Marcus was already in motion and the puck glanced off his blocker and clattered to the ice as the other kids roared.

Alec couldn’t help but be really, really fucking proud.

Jace’s jaw dropped. “Holy— Did he just…?”

Alec skated up and knocked his stick against Marcus’ pads. “Nice save.”

“Nice coaching,” Marcus said with a grin.

The kids rotated around, and after the one-on-one sessions were over Alec ended up coaching next to one goal, the Penguins’ goalie next to the other, with Jace and Emil playing against Raphael and Bat. All of the shots on goal had an ease to them that bolstered the goalies’ confidences, but the four Angels managed to hit each other just as hard as they usually would. Then the kids, players, coaches, and parents all piled together for a photo shoot that wouldn’t have one serious picture.

Alec’s face hurt from laughing.

At the end of it all, Alec couldn’t believe three hours had passed that quickly. He dropped onto the bench next to Marcus and removed his mask, setting it between them. Marcus grinned at him, but Alec could see him eyeing Alec’s mask.

“You can pick it up if you want,” Alec reassured him. “I don’t have any superstitions about that.”

Marcus lifted the mask in both his hands with reverence, twisting it around. “This part is different than the rest.”

“Yeah, I’m redesigning the whole thing. Not sure what the rest of it will look like yet, but wearing this first part in the playoffs was important to me.”

It wasn’t quite outing himself, but as damn close as he could get for now. Someday he hoped to do another one of these clinics—maybe as the league’s first out player. Someday he hoped that he could tell Marcus just how well he understood the challenges he faced.

He wanted to make the path for an LGBTQ athlete very different than the one he’d had to struggle through.

“I like it.” Marcus traced a finger over the flames, the corner of his lips ticking up. “It’s badass.”

“Thanks. My friend Clary took my vision and ran with it. One day you’ll get to design your own. I’m sure of it.”

Marcus handed the mask back to Alec. “I might be a bit more sure of that now too.”

“The league will be lucky to have you…in about seven years,” Alec said with all seriousness. “Have to finish college first.”

Marcus laughed. “Yes, sir.”

Marcus bumped Alec’s outstretched fist and retreated to the home locker room with the rest of the goalies. The Angels’ first line headed for the guest locker room, but Alec held back until the Penguins’ goalie had crossed over the boards.

“Alec Lightwood,” he said, offering his hand.

The Penguins’ goalie set his mask under his arm and shook Alec’s hand. “Victor Aldertree.”

“Didn’t have anyone else from your team who could make it out today?”

Victor gave a lop-sided grin that was all charm. “Just me. Most of the guys have families and friends in the area, but since I was called up just before the playoffs, my family is still back in New York.”

Alec nodded with understanding. That was the life of a pro at the beginning of his career. Alec had been traded three times in the first two years. He’d pretty much lived out of hotels for the first four years after going pro.

“I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk, actually,” Victor said as he walked with Alec down the tunnel. “This doesn’t usually happen with teams playing against each other—especially when there’s the rivalry like our teams have. Anyway, I’m kind of star struck. I grew up in New York and the Angels were always my team until…well—” Victor smoothed a hand over his Penguins’ jersey and Alec laughed. Who issued your paycheck could turn loyalties fast. “But anyway, it’s cool to meet you and _really_ fucking cool to be playing on the same ice as you in the playoffs.”

As hard as it was for Alec to hear praise from fans, having another pro do the same was more uncomfortable—even if Victor was a rookie. Alec cleared his throat. “From what I’ve seen, you earned your place there.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have two shutouts in the post season.”

“I’d say good luck with that, but you know….” Alec scratched at his beard as he smirked, coming to a stop at the locker room door. “It was cool of you to show up today.”

“I owe a hell of a lot more to hockey than I can ever repay.” Victor leaned in. “Plus, these kids remind me why I love the game, know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Anyway, it was nice to meet the man behind the mask.” Victor hitched his duffel up his shoulder and shook Alec’s hand again. “I’ll see you from the other side of the rink tomorrow. No offense, but I’m hoping you won’t have another shutout.”

Victor waved and headed for the exit.

Alec laughed and called out after him. “We’ll see.” He leaned against the door and took in his teammates packing up their stuff. “Well, Santiago? Worth your time?”

Raphael tugged at the cuffs of his dress shirt. “You owe me, Lightwood.”

Alec chuckled. Any other answer would’ve weirded him out. “I’ll get a suit for you from Tom Ford the next time they call me up.”

“Two,” Raphael countered, eyes narrowed.

“Deal.”

Raphael gave a satisfied smile as he passed by Alec.

Pangborn was laughing already as he trailed behind Raphael. “This was worth it just to see Wayland get stopped by a fourteen year old.”

“Definitely,” Bat said and knocked Jace on the shoulder. “See you all at practice tomorrow.”

Jace seemed to be waiting for the other three to clear out before he spoke. “Want to do dinner at the hotel, or go out?”

“Actually, I’m—” Alec stepped inside the locker room and closed the door behind him. “I’m not staying in tonight.”

Jace’s eyebrows practically hit the ceiling. “What?”

“Magnus is headed into town.”

“Holy shit. Finally! You have condoms?”

Alec’s cheeks heated. “Shut up, Jace.”

“Lube? I don’t know how all of that works, but good quality lube always eases things along for both parties.”

“Oh my god,” Alec groaned. “If I’d wanted that advice I would’ve called Max.”

Jace’s dimples popped out. “Speaking of your siblings, I texted Izzy some pics from today to post on your Instagram and Twitter.”

“How do you have Izzy’s cell? And what? I don’t have Twitter.”

“We talked after the last game, traded numbers. Me and Max too.” Jace scrolled through his cell and handed it over to Alec. “And yes, you definitely do have a Twitter account. Almost three hundred thousand followers since the Gallant campaign hit.”

Alec scanned through the page, flicking past dozens of pics and messages that he could barely decipher. “There are posts on here from me?”

“They’re called tweets and yeah, apparently Izzy’s been helping you out.”

Alec poked around the app, trying to figure out how to get to Jace’s profile. “This is your account, right? How many followers do you have?”

“That’s not important,” Jace said with scowl and swiped his cell out of Alec’s hand.

“I have more than you, don’t I?”

“If you can figure out how to use it, then you can see for yourself.” Jace cocked one eyebrow. “But I think you have more important things to do tonight.”

Alec couldn’t stifle his own smile. “Definitely.”

 

****

 

Magnus passed through the security doors into the baggage claim area of the Pittsburgh airport to find two women—one in an all-black uniform holding an iPad that read his name, and the other with black hair twisted artfully off her neck, stunning red lips, and a peach, v-neck dress.

Well, Alec had certainly made a striking choice for chauffeur services. “I am the requested Mr. Bane.”

“ _Buenas noches_ , Mr. Bane,” the woman in the dress said. “I’m Rosa and this is Carter—she will be your driver. Anna sends her love.”

A striking choice indeed. Apparently, Alec had sought out the assistance of one of the most well connected women Magnus knew. What exactly did Alec have planned?

“Please, call me Magnus.” He shook both their hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“We already collected your bag,” Rosa said gesturing to the Tumi suitcase behind her that Magnus hadn’t noticed. “Your car is outside.”

“Thank you.” He swept his hand for Carter to lead them away, bracelets clinking with the movement, then fell in step with Rosa. “So, you work with Anna?”

“I’m her concierge in Pittsburgh.”

“And where exactly is our destination?”

Rosa smiled. “I’ve been asked to keep that a secret.”

“Very well,” Magnus allowed. He fingered his ear cuff. “Am I allowed to know how long we’ll be in the car?”

“Approximately thirty minutes.”

Carter placed his suitcase into the trunk of a black car of the same make and model as the ones Anna used in LA, and Rosa opened the door for him.

Shit. He was really doing this. He was on the ground in a city where he shouldn’t be at all, heading to see a man who he wasn’t supposed to have contact with outside of professional responsibilities. Yet, he couldn’t conceive of having made a different decision.

Magnus took a deep breath and got in. “Please, Rosa. Come sit with me. I’d love company for the trip to our covert destination. I don’t know what mental state I’ll arrive in if I’m left to entertain myself after spending the day on a plane with only my thoughts for company.”

“Of course.” Rosa gracefully slid into the car next to him. “I’ve already notified Alec that you’re on your way.”

Magnus fiddled with his rings as the car slid into motion. “You are just as thorough as Anna.”

“Thank you.” Rosa leaned forward and picked up a glass. “Would you like a drink? Alec suggested you like whiskey neat.”

“I do. Please.”

Rosa poured a glass for him, and one for herself that she took a courteous sip out of. A kindness not to leave him drinking alone when it was apparent he could use something to smooth his ragged edges. Magnus lifted his glass to her then took a deep drink. The whiskey burned a delicious path down his throat and warmed his belly, but it wasn’t nearly enough to soothe his jangled nerves.

Magnus fidgeted, peered out the window, and put voice to the fear and disquiet setting him on edge. “Have you ever done something that is completely inadvisable, and yet, there was no other choice you’d make?”

He felt Rosa shift, then heard her take a quiet sip of her drink before she answered. “Have you ever been to Pittsburgh before, Magnus?”

Magnus tore his eyes away from the passing scenery and looked to her. “A stopover for a flight or two, but I’ve never properly visited.”

“You likely know of Pittsburgh as a steel town, then. It was the only knowledge I had of the city before my parents emigrated from Ecuador. I expected soot and filth, and a landscape scarred with the towers of factories pumping out black smoke. But when we arrived, we drove into the valley and I saw the river and trees. Historical buildings with gorgeous architecture. I came to learn the history of this city quickly—it enthralled me—and its journey from ash-covered downtown to world class urban center was one that caught my attention, even at a young age.”

“Why is that?”

“I am a romantic at heart,” Rosa said with a quiet laugh. “I assume you know the name Mellon?”

“The Mellon family is intricately woven in this city’s history, from what I understand.”

“Very much so. It is Mr. RK Mellon’s involvement in Pittsburgh’s renaissance that most historians focus on, but it was another Mellon who was responsible for Mr. Mellon’s drive to clean up the city. He was one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the world and one day his wife, Constance—a naturalist who rode horses every day and led family camping trips—told him that if he didn’t clean up the city, then there was no way she could live here with him.”

Magnus gazed out at the pristine downtown on the other side of the river. “Your city is beautiful.”

“It is amazing what lengths a person will go to for love.”

Magnus smiled. “Indeed, it is.”

The sun tracked a slow arc to the west, still hours away from nightfall, but as they passed under a grove of trees, the headlights of the car flashed on, illuminating a sign reading “Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens” as Carter pulled into the entrance.

This wasn’t a restaurant or a hotel—as he’d thought they may end up in for the hours they did have….

Alec was taking him out.

On a date.

Magnus set aside his glass and pulled out his lipgloss from his carry-on. He turned on his cell to act as a mirror, and realized he hadn’t switched it off airplane mode. As soon as he reconnected to the network, two texts popped up.

From Alec _, Can’t wait to see you :)_

And….

From Imogen _, My evening freed up tomorrow. Let’s talk after your meeting with Jace’s agent_

Magnus frowned.

Imogen would have his head if she ever found out he’d come here. She could drop Alec as a client. Ruin Magnus’ career…. Magnus’ stomach plummeted as he gripped his phone tight.

_What was he doing here?_

“Magnus? Please, allow me,” Rosa said quietly, snapping him back to the present. She reached into a pocket to pull out a mirror she held up for Magnus as the car came to a stop.

Magnus responded with an affirmative to Imogen, then applied a thin layer of gloss and ran his fingers through his hair. His reflection wasn’t doing any favors for his nerves. His eyes were wide, a deep frown embedded on his face.

“Unless someone has enough of a government clearance to check flight logs, they won’t know you’re here,” Rosa reassured him. “Anna took the liberty of checking you into the hotel room you reserved in LA.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised, but…. “How did she know?”

“As you stated, Anna is thorough.” Rosa gestured up a set of stairs. “He’s right through those main doors. I’ll be in the car if you need anything. Alec already has all my contact information. Enjoy your evening, Magnus.”

Magnus nodded to her and got out of the car, smoothing shaking hands down his lapels.

He took the stairs one at a time toward the all-glass building, keeping himself moving forward when all he wanted to do was flee. It’d been years since the last time he was nervous for a date. But he knew why he’d come here. This was Alexander.

He’d always say yes when Alec asked anything of him.

Before he opened the door he adjusted his suit again. He put his fingers to the handle…and couldn’t find the strength of will to just push it open.

Why was he so nervous?

“It’s just Alexander,” he muttered under his breath.

That made his heart pound even harder.

Magnus steeled himself and made his way inside, immediately enveloped by the heat of a tropical forest. He breathed deeply, inhaling the humid air and turning to take in the greenery surrounding him, when his eyes finally landed on Alec.

Alec was sitting on a bench off to the side, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. Watching Magnus with a knowing smile on his face.

All of the questions about what this would mean for them, and his worry about whether he’d made the right decision by choosing to come here, just…dropped away.

“Good evening, Alexander,” Magnus said, his voice steady.

Alec stood and crossed the atrium. He was dressed in a simple white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone. He wore black suit pants that accentuated all the right places. His hair was combed back instead of the usual mess from running his fingers through it.

Magnus’ heart sped with each step closer that Alec came to him.

Alec leaned down, grasping Magnus’ arms, and placed a soft kiss on Magnus’ cheek. “Hey.”

With Alec’s lips almost to his ear, warm breath on his cheek, and the brush of Alec’s beard against his skin, Magnus shivered. “Could you see me through the door?”

“Yeah.”

There was a distinct smile on Alec’s lips.

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” he admitted.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Magnus breathed him in, the scent of Alec’s cologne familiar. Soothing.

“I am here.” Magnus remained where he was and set his palms on Alec’s chest, Alec’s heartbeat thrumming under his fingers. “Now, what are you going to do with me?”

Alec seemed to recognize the gravity in Magnus’ tone instead of his usual flirtatiousness. A previously unvoiced fear of rejection welling up inside Magnus unexpectedly.

Alec cupped Magnus’ jaw and tipped his chin up, brushing a chaste kiss to Magnus’ forehead. “Anything. Everything. It doesn’t matter as long as you’re here.”

Magnus closed his eyes and dragged Alec closer, burying his face into Alec’s neck and enveloping him in a hug. Alec’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding tight.

“This alone was worth the trip,” he mumbled against Alec’s skin.

Alec’s laugh began in his chest and echoed through the glass atrium, chasing Magnus’ insecurities away.

Magnus smiled and drew back. “I’ve probably already ruined my makeup.”

“Just smudged your lipgloss.” Alec set his hands on Magnus’ jaw and swiped a thumb at the corner of Magnus’ lips. “I have a way of destroying your flawless aesthetic.”

Magnus turned his head and placed a kiss on Alec’s hand. “Still worth it.”

“Come on. Let me show you around.” Alec entwined his fingers with Magnus’ and pulled him deeper into the building. “You like it here?”

Magnus definitely wasn’t looking at the tropical forest around him when he replied. “Breathtaking.”

A tinge bloomed on Alec’s cheeks that could’ve been blamed on the heat of the room, but Magnus knew better.

“I had another idea for tonight, but—” Alec shrugged and continued to lead them down the path. “This ended up being even more perfect. I’ve been thinking a lot about Indonesia since you told me about it—about your home—and I wanted to give you a piece of it since you seem to miss it. Anyway….” Alec stopped, scratching at his beard with one hand and squeezed Magnus’ hand to turn him toward the forest. “I couldn’t bring a moon orchid to you, so I figured I’d bring you to it.”

The delicate white flowers in front of them were one of Indonesia’s national flowers. One Magnus remembered well from his childhood. The sight stirred memories that Magnus had long tucked away. _Good_ memories. Alec couldn’t have known that, but that Alec had put thought into this, wanting to bring Magnus closer to a piece of his homeland…. It was devastatingly romantic in a way that Magnus wasn’t used to being romanced.

Magnus swallowed around the ache in his throat and tugged at Alec’s hand. “You just wanted to sequester me somewhere warm enough where I’d start to shed clothing.”

Alec grinned down at him. “It is a side benefit.”

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus said with all seriousness. He lifted Alec’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I haven’t seen one of these in person in many, many years.”

“You’re welcome.”

Magnus wanted to really kiss him in that moment, in the breaths that fell between them as the not-so-silent silence of the forest hummed around them. But Alec seemed to be taking this slow. Like an actual date and not a rush to bed, as so many of Magnus’ more recent encounters had been. He was more than happy to oblige.

Magnus let go of Alec’s hand and sat on the bench across from the orchids. “Now, tell me how the clinic went today.”

“It was…humbling,” Alec answered as he dropped down next to Magnus. “I had way more advantages than most of those kids, and they are so much braver than I am. They’re desperate for pros to look up to.”

Magnus gazed at Alec, in complete disbelief that this man couldn’t see his own worth. “They already have one.”

Alec sat up straighter, his hand tracing the silver bracelet around his wrist, and shot Magnus a shy smile. “Not quite, but I’m getting there.”

“You want to tell me what happened with your coach?”

“What happened, or why?”

“Both. All of it. I want to hear every word, every thought, every reaction.”

Alec audibly exhaled. “It was good.”

Magnus waited for Alec to say more, but when he didn’t Magnus rolled his eyes. “We need to work on your storytelling abilities, Alexander.”

Alec laughed, then shrugged. “I don’t know…. I guess I woke up in your apartment yesterday morning and you weren’t there, and I thought it had been painful before waking up _with_ you, but this— This was….” Alec scrunched his eyebrows together. “I couldn’t stand the thought of walking into the arena and pretending like my day hadn’t been hell, and my night hadn’t been made better because of you. So yeah, you and Izzy had asked me to talk to someone in the Angels organization anyway, and Jace already knows, and I—” Alec cut himself off with a frown.

“You what?” Magnus guided gently. This was possibly the most words he’d ever heard come out of Alec’s mouth at one time. He was rapt.

Alec lips thinned with concentration. “I realized something. I wasn’t shutting the noise out when I took to the ice, I was shutting _everything_ out. Trying to separate myself from everything that didn’t happen in the arena, or maybe divide myself in half? Either way, it’s not realistic, and it’s not healthy. I was trying to pick out the elements of myself that fit with hockey and keep those, then ignore the ones that I thought didn’t fit. But it doesn’t work that way. I want to carry _all_ of who I am onto that ice.” Alec took a deep breath. “My drive to be better isn’t just as a goalie—it’s as a man too. My passion for hockey is just that—passion….” Alec leveled his hazel eyes on Magnus. “That includes you, Magnus.”

Alec’s gaze flickered to Magnus’ lips, and Magnus held back, giving Alec the space to lead this wherever he wanted.

Alec worried his lip, his shoulder hunching again when Magnus didn’t say anything. “Was that too much?”

“Not at all,” Magnus reassured him. “Your honesty is never too much.”

He pushed a lock of Alec’s hair off his forehead, then traced his fingers over the line of Alec’s jaw. Alec leaned into him, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Magnus’. Having Alec this close to him, this real and vulnerable, undid him.

How was it possible he’d only kissed this man once and was so far gone for him?

“How are you really doing?” Magnus asked quietly. He threaded his fingers through the hair at Alec’s nape. “After everything with your mother and Morgenstern…. This week _has_ been hell.”

“I’m calm. I feel like I’m going into battle—like I do when I’m on the ice.” Alec circled his hand around Magnus’ wrist and held on. “What about you?”

“I’m content to be here,” he answered. “But admittedly on the verge of stripping down to nothing due to the humidity.”

Alec chuckled and pushed back from Magnus, threading their hands together again. “Are you hungry?

“Famished. What do you have planned?”

Alec stood. “I said I wanted to take you out, so we’re going out.”

“Alexander,” Magnus pleaded, holding fast so Alec would look at him. “I appreciate that, more than you can know, but this destination was perfect. You can’t put yourself at risk— I can’t allow that.”

“I’m not putting myself at risk, Magnus. We can go out _and_ be safe. I’m in control, remember?”

Magnus sighed. “It’s not as if that’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about since you sent that text.”

Alec chuckled. “Let’s go.”

Magnus nodded and allowed Alec to pull him up. He stole one more look at the moon orchid, breathed in the familiar scent that spoke of a time decades in the past, and held tighter to Alec. Now that they were in the same space again, and Magnus was allowed to touch Alec, he never wanted to let go. But as they were walking out the front door—into the waning light, in a very public space—Magnus’ protective instincts kicked in, and he dropped his hand from Alec’s.

Alec stopped immediately, one foot on the stair below him and one on the landing, looking back at Magnus with a question in his eyes.

Magnus frowned. “I know the risk is small here, and you’ve taken precautions, but….”

Alec held out his hand. “Trust me.”

There was no one in the world he trusted more. Magnus took Alec’s outstretched hand and followed Alec down the steps. The warm, calloused hand in his own grounded him. Alec’s grip was gentle, but solid and confident—very much like the man himself.

Alec’s smile widened as they approached the car. “Rosa, I assume? It’s nice to meet you in person.”

Rosa greeted him warmly. “Likewise, Alec. Are you headed to dinner now?”

“Please.”

Rosa opened the door and Alec gestured for Magnus to go first.

“This drive will be less than ten minutes, Magnus,” Rosa said in a playful tone.

“As long as the backseat is comfortable, the drive can take all night,” Magnus responded with a wink.

“Oh my god, Magnus,” Alec groaned, a badly disguised laugh escaping in the same breath. “Get in the car.”

Magnus huffed into the seat and bounced on it once. “Sturdy, even if not terribly supportive.”

Alec blushed as he ducked inside and sat down next to Magnus. He peered over his shoulder. “Thank you, Rosa.”

She smirked and closed the back door behind him. Magnus couldn’t help it—he leaned forward and pecked Alec on the cheek. “That color is absolutely captivating on you, Alexander.”

“You—”Alec shook his head slowly, a grin pulling at his lips. “You are too damn charming.”

Magnus adored this flustered side of Alec just as much as his confident swagger. “You’re welcome.”

Alec grabbed his hand—as if reaching for Magnus was second nature to him now—and Alec focused his gaze out the window, going quiet as they drove away. Magnus didn’t fill the silence. Felt no need to. With others he considered it his duty to keep the conversation alive with witty repartee—to entertain—but when it was solely he and Alec, Magnus could just exist.

And be perfectly content in the moment.

 

****

 

Alec held tight to Magnus, the ability to say words—any of them, let alone the right ones—completely escaping him.

For once he was out in the world, holding the hand of a man he deeply cared for. A man whose confidence could only be matched by Alec’s incorrigible younger brother. A man who’d been nervous to see _him_.

Alec turned to the window to hide the smile spreading across his face.

Magnus looked amazing. But that hadn’t been a surprise—he always did. His pin-stripe suit was fitted snug to his frame. A lavender shirt under his jacket, a vest of the same pin stripe, a bold bright pink and purple tie, and a twist of thin gold necklaces that Alec could only see hints of when Magnus moved.

Walking across that atrium to Magnus, Alec had been confident. In control.

It was clear that Magnus wanted him.

But it was in the moments of tenderness—Magnus impetuously embracing him, Magnus asking him how he was and caring about the answer, Magnus playfully kissing him on the cheek—when Alec let his ironclad need for control fall away…. And Magnus still desired him.

With Magnus, Alec didn’t need to have all the answers. He could falter in his decisions, fumble over his words.

Or he could stand tall. Assert what he wanted.

Magnus accepted him both ways.

It was a gift that Alec added to his mental tally of their unofficial contest. He didn’t know if Magnus was even paying attention to that number anymore, but it was important for Alec to recognize it in some way.

The car crossed over the river, heading toward the downtown, tires rumbling over uneven pavement. Alec squeezed Magnus’ hand tighter.

Magnus’ acceptance was a greater gift than anything tangible Alec could ever give back.

 

****

 

“And where are we, exactly?” Magnus dared to ask Alec when the car came to a stop and Carter opened the door this time.

Alec grinned. “The Pittsburgh location of the club you took me to in LA.”

Safety _and_ the ability to go out. Of course.

Magnus nodded his approval. “Excellent choice, Alexander.”

Alec positively beamed and Magnus’ heart flipped. He was becoming more familiar with the acrobatics of his internal organs in response to Alec’s presence, but he didn’t think he’d ever be accustomed to how much Alec affected him.

He followed Alec out of the car—enjoying that view immensely—and smoothed his hair as he stood. “How did you manage to procure a membership on such short notice?”

“It’s mine,” Rosa offered as she met them at the curb. “This club has been in operation since 1922 in this exact building, but with not nearly as much diversity represented in its membership as the city itself. Pittsburgh needed a pansexual Latinx member to shake things up a bit. If you’ll please follow me?”

“Thank you for taking us under your protective wing, darling.”

“ _De nada_.” Rosa led them to an elevator set aside from the others, swiped a key card when they entered, and tapped the button for the fifth floor.

The doors opened directly into a private room with darkly stained wood walls and a massive fireplace—logs crackling, chasing the chill out of the old room. There was no overhead illumination, with dim lamps and flickering candles bathing the room in warm light. A wooden bar was set next to the fireplace. A table with formal place settings for two in front of it. And a black leather couch nestled over a soft rug in the corner. Magnus took it all in, admiring the craftsmanship infused in every detail, and when he rotated around to see Alec’s reaction, found that Alec’s gaze was only on him.

While Alec had been quiet in the car, introspective even, the sheer desire in Alec’s gaze left Magnus more than a little breathless.

Magnus winked at him and began to unbutton his suit jacket.

“Controls for the lights and room temperature are here. The bar is fully stocked.” Rosa tapped a finger on an antique phone situated on the bar. “You just have to lift this phone for food service, or if you need anything else.”

Alec’s hands were stuffed into his pockets, and he rocked back on his heels, eyes leaving Magnus for only a second as he responded to her. “I’ll text you when we’re ready to go again.”

“Have a good evening, gentlemen,” Rosa said, and the elevator doors slid quietly closed behind her.

“When we’re ready to go again?” Magnus questioned. “What other destination could you possibly have planned for tonight?”

The only response he received was a wry twist of Alec’s lips.

Magnus shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and hung it from the chair at the bar. “You certainly are in control, Alexander, aren’t you?”

Alec’s heated gaze slid over him like a physical touch. “Drink?”

Magnus resisted the urge to tackle Alec to the leather couch, and instead gave a demure nod of assent.

“Take a look at the menu,” Alec said as he circled behind the bar and slid a leather portfolio toward Magnus. “Rosa sent it over to me earlier. Said we can order off it, or if there’s anything else you want they’ll make it.”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow. “Anything?”

“I probably shouldn’t have said that,” Alec said with a laugh. “Now all you want to do is test that theory, right?”

“It certainly is tempting.”

Magnus’ gaze skimmed over Alec. But not nearly as tempting as the view of Alec unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves to reveal muscled forearms. The bracelet Magnus had given him slid down Alec’s wrist as he poured them tumblers of whiskey. Magnus was parched, but whiskey wouldn’t come close to quenching his thirst. Especially with the way Alec kept looking at Magnus through his lashes. His bottom lip reddened from working it between his teeth.

Magnus took a deep breath and sat down at the bar in favor of catapulting himself over it to crash into Alec’s arms.

Alec set a glass down in front of Magnus. “I can’t do anything too wild. Night before a game and all.”

Magnus scoffed. “I believe that asking me to fly across the country to spend less than four hours with you—when we’re explicitly banned from being near each other outside of professional responsibilities—may constitute as doing something wild.”

Alec planted one hand on the bar, his biceps bulging out obscenely as he lifted his glass to his lips. “You think?”

Magnus swallowed to slake the dryness in his throat. Loosened his tie just a touch. Apparently he should’ve been paying attention to their gracious hostess’ instructions about the temperature controls instead of eye-fucking Alec.

Alec undid a button at the top of his dress shirt, cracked his neck, and smirked. He laid his forearms on the bar so he was looking Magnus directly in the eye. “This may not be the most normal first date, but I’ve definitely imagined wilder scenarios that involve you and me.”

Well, then. That was confirmed. Alec’s flirtatious side was unquestionably making an appearance.

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“I’m not short on…ideas about how we can spend the rest of the night.”

Magnus heart skittered and he leaned forward so they were only inches away. “And how do I come into play with those ideas, Alexander?”

The corner of Alec’s lips tipped up, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He lifted his drink to his mouth and took a sip before answering. “You really want to hear this?”

There was nothing he wanted to hear more than sinful fantasies falling from Alec’s lips.

“Yes.”

“Maybe I don’t want to share,” Alec said playfully.

“You don’t have to hold anything back from me,” Magnus said with all seriousness.

“Maybe I want you to experience it all first-hand.” Alec’s heated gaze raked over Magnus. “When it happens.”

“When?” Magnus was enamored with Alec’s brazenness. “Not if?”

“Definitely when.”

“You are”—Magnus twirled his fingers in the air, rings catching the low light, and Alec tracked the movement of his hand—“supremely confident.”

Alec’s eyes danced with mirth. “I think I have reason to be.”

“If I remember correctly—and I’m _very_ sure I do—you told me that the next time I saw you in person, I could kiss you.”

“I did,” Alec admitted. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, then rose back to standing, features wiped of any hit of a tease. “I thought you were hungry, though.”

“ _That_ was an opening for a very awful line from an adult film. I realize we’re in a private room with seductive ambience, numerous surfaces to work off of, and unlimited access to alcohol, but…. Have you no shame, Alexander?”

Alec’s responding laugh was completely unguarded. A sound of uncomplicated joy that Magnus was both privileged to witness and proud to invoke.

Alec set his glass down and walked around the bar. “We’ve got a couple hours left, Magnus. Plenty of time to eat.” Alec leaned across Magnus to reach for the menu, breath ghosting by Magnus’s cheek. “Take a look at the menu—”

Magnus couldn’t hold back one more second. He fisted his hand in Alec’s shirt and pulled him down into a kiss.

Alec laughed against his lips, and in the next breath was sliding his tongue into Magnus’ mouth with a low moan.

He’d traversed across the country, on two planes, to spend four hours with a man he wasn’t supposed to like, let alone love.

Magnus was willing to go to any lengths for one more kiss.

 

****

 

It felt like months—not days—since Alec had last been able to do this.

Alec threaded his fingers under Magnus’ necklaces and around Magnus’ neck, tilting his head to mold his mouth to Magnus’ and move with him. Magnus’ lipgloss was slick against his mouth, a tantalizing sweetness on his tongue.

Magnus’ hands slid down Alec’s back and around his waist, crushing their bodies together. Magnus rolled his hips and Alec pushed back, thrusting them together as Alec licked and sucked every hint of gloss off Magnus’ lips.

Magnus nearly dragged Alec onto his lap, hands palming Alec’s ass. Alec could barely breathe as he left Magnus’ lips to seek out the expanse of skin on Magnus’ jaw and down his neck. Magnus’ breath was hot against his cheek, and a pleasant chill raced up Alec’s spine.

“We don’t have to do anything here,” Alec murmured against Magnus’ neck. He took Magnus’ skin between his teeth and Magnus’ breath caught. He couldn’t resist nipping at the same spot again to elicit the same reaction, Magnus’ heartbeat thundering under his lips. Alec slid a hand down Magnus’ chest, exploring the hard muscle hidden beneath too many layers of clothes. Fuck. He needed more. “The logistics of a hotel got complicated, so I rented you a loft on the south side, by the river. Underground parking and a private elevator….”

“Did you?”

Alec placed a soft kiss at the base of Magnus’ neck and drew back so he could look at him. “I know what I want, Magnus, but I don’t— Shit. I want _you_ , but I also want you as my agent.”

Magnus’ hands went to Alec’s hips, holding Alec in place. “All I told Imogen was that we hadn’t had sex.”

“Which is way too true,” Alec grumbled.

Magnus’ lips were a brilliant red as he smiled. His cheeks a matching shade that Alec had never seen on him before.

Alec ran his fingers over Magnus’ cheek, along that intoxicating blush, and kissed the line of Magnus’ jaw. “So the question becomes—how far can we take this where you don’t have to lie to Imogen?”

“Not far enough.”

“Fuck,” Alec breathed out.

Magnus turned his head and captured Alec’s lips into another languid kiss, Magnus’ fingers digging into his hips. Alec lost himself in the softness of Magnus’ mouth. He could stay just like this for the hours they had left.

But Magnus was pulling away from him too soon, eyebrows furrowing together. “I also told Imogen there was nothing formalized between us.”

Alec’s lips ticked up. “This is casual.”

Magnus’ green-gold eyes were intent. “It’s not, and you know that.”

Alec’s heart thudded. He closed his eyes and breathed Magnus in.

He knew.

But to hear that coming from Magnus…?

He pushed away from Magnus, yet couldn’t let go of him completely. He took Magnus’ hand in his, marveling that he’d spent the last five minutes fused to Magnus’ body, but holding Magnus’ hand seemed so much more…intimate.

He wanted to be with Magnus—in all meanings of the word. He was drawn to him, craved his presence. He was in love with him, and Magnus had nearly admitted the same out loud just now…. But their circumstances hadn’t changed.

Magnus was still his agent.

Sebastian was still a threat. As was Alec’s mother.

Alec still wasn’t out.

Was he pushing whatever this was between them too far tonight?

Alec huffed down in the chair next to Magnus. “How much longer until you sit down with the Angels’ front office?”

“Less than a month.”

“Okay.” Alec nodded. “I can wait.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“No,” Alec said with a laugh. “But if that’s what it takes to keep you as my agent and not fuck this— _us_ —up, then I’ll deal.” He squeezed Magnus’ hand and let go. “Dinner then?”

Alec didn’t wait for an answer. He perused the menu, not really seeing anything on it, but needing something to distract himself so he wasn’t pushing Magnus further than he wanted to go. Further than they should.

Magnus curled his fingers into the hair at Alec’s nape. “I’ll have dinner with you on one condition.”

Alec sucked in a breath, trying to get his body not to react to the sheer bliss of Magnus’ fingers trailing over the back of his neck. “And what is that?”

“That we leave enough time for dessert.”

Alec looked to Magnus—at the devious upturn of his lips—and knew that what Magnus was asking for wouldn’t be found on this menu. “ _That_ was an awful porno line.”

Magnus’ smile was too satisfied. “Did it work?”

“Way too well.” Alec scrubbed at his beard. “Okay. Honestly? I know things haven’t really changed— Or shit, maybe they’ve gotten worse? But you…? You’re the one thing in my life I don’t question. I don’t want to wait for all these…pieces I have no control over to click into place when I already have the one that fits right here.”

Magnus hand traced a feather-light touch around Alec’s neck and down the open v of his shirt. “I don’t either.”

 _Fuck._ Alec took a slow breath in and let it out through his lips, trying to tamp down the desire that lit up with that three-word confession. A private dining room in an exclusive club—while suitably secluded—wasn’t an appropriate setting for what he wanted to happen next. And really, what kind of date was he when Magnus had said he was famished almost an hour ago now?

“But you are hungry?” Alec asked again.

Magnus bit at his lip and toyed with the button on Alec’s shirt.

“For food, Magnus.”

Magnus patted Alec’s chest and sat back. “I suppose it is necessary for life.”

Alec nodded and went back to surveying the menu.

He felt Magnus’ body moving closer, then Magnus’ shoulder and biceps brushing against his. “Alexander?”

Alec took a deep breath. Fuck one month, he wouldn’t make it through one _meal_. “Yes?”

“Are you looking at this menu trying to figure out what will take the least amount of time to prepare?”

Alec laughed lowly. That was _exactly_ what he was doing. But maybe there was another option….

“What would you choose off of here,” Alec asked. “Regardless of how long it took?”

Magnus dragged a polished nail across the menu. “The coq au vin sounds divine.”

Alec lifted the white phone off its cradle and someone in the kitchen picked up immediately.

“How can we help you, sir?”

“I’d like to place our order now, please.”

“Of course. Please, go ahead.”

“Two plates of coq au vin, one with no butter on the potatoes”—Magnus scoffed and Alec had to hold back a laugh—“the other with a lot of butter. Two salads with oil and vinegar and whatever other dressing the chef considers the best—on the side, please.” Magnus nodded approvingly. “And we’ll need all of that to go.”

“We’ll call when it’s ready, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“To go?” Magnus questioned as Alec hung up the phone.

Alec just smiled and dug his cell out of his pocket, putting it to his ear.

“Is everything okay, Alec?” Rosa answered.

“Everything is fine,” he reassured her. “I just placed an order for food, but we’re ready to head to the loft. Could Carter drop us off and bring back the food when it’s ready?”

“I’ll contact the kitchen so they can notify me when it’s ready.”

“Thanks. We’ll be down in ten minutes.”

“The car will be waiting at the elevator,” Rosa replied.

Alec hung up to find Magnus staring at him. “Ten minutes? Why not now?”

“We should give the kitchen time to start working,” Alec said with as serious of an expression as he could. “It’s only polite.”

Magnus elegantly arched one eyebrow in question.

“Fine,” Alec relented, hands curling into the edges of Magnus’ vest to drag him closer. “I don’t think I’ve kissed you enough yet.”

 

****

 

Magnus fiddled with the lock to the door, but it was nearly impossible to get his fingers to work with Alec’s lips on his neck. There were other, much more important things his hands needed to be doing right now.

“Alexander? You are distracting me.”

Magnus could feel the smile on Alec’s lips as he answered with a breathy, “Good.”

“We should at least attempt to make it—” Magnus inhaled a sharp breath as Alec nipped at his neck. It had taken Alec mere minutes to find the spot on Magnus’ neck that left him weak in the knees, and Alec was using that discovery to his full benefit.

“Did you say make out?” Alec teased.

Magnus bit back a smirk and peered at Alec over his shoulder. “You rented this opulent loft overlooking the river and the downtown lights, and we’re going to end up naked in the hallway.”

Alec’s eyes sparkled. “Is there a problem?”

Magnus was barely able to get a “no” past his lips before Alec’s mouth was on him again and Alec was twisting Magnus around so they were face-to-face, Alec pushing Magnus against the door. Alec plucked the keys out of Magnus’ hand, not breaking the kiss as he slid the key into the lock with ease.

“Show off,” Magnus mumbled against his lips.

Alec pushed the door open and placed his palm on Magnus’ back, urging them both inside. “Just…goal driven.”

“Bringing your work home with you, I see.”

“I won’t be deflecting any shots tonight,” Alec said. He set his palm on Magnus’ chest, thumb toying with his necklaces. “Believe me.”

Magnus cocked his head, smirking. “Even backdoor?”

Alec laughed as he kicked the door shut. “You using hockey slang to talk about sex is way hotter than it should be.”

“Are you going to penalize me?” Magnus goaded him. “Put me in the sin bin?”

Alec gave a lop-sided smile that was all devilish charm, then placed a soft kiss at the corner of Magnus’ lips. “Only if I get to join you in there.”

Magnus brushed his cheek against Alec’s. Savored the sound of Alec’s heavy breaths in his ear. Magnus urged Alec’s head to the side with his cheek and kissed down the length of Alec’s neck. “But goalies don’t go in the box.”

He let go of Alec and took a step back, retreating coyly from Alec’s brash confidence, and inelegantly bumping into the kitchen island.

Alec lowered his chin and gazed at Magnus. “First time for everything.”

Alec closed the distance between them, and pressed Magnus against the kitchen counter with his entire body. Magnus canted his hips up, teasing at the sizable bulge in Alec’s pants, drawing an indecent moan from Alec’s throat. Magnus dove in for another kiss, lapping his tongue against Alec’s in a luxurious slide.

Alec’s hands fingered the top button of Magnus’ vest. “Why do you still have so many clothes on?”

“Please feel free to dispose me of all my earthly garments.” Magnus dragged his finger down Alec’s spine, and Alec breath stuttered, muscles rippling. “And I’ll do the same for you.”

Alec dove in for another kiss. There was barely enough room between them for Alec to work, but Magnus wasn’t letting him go. The tightness of his vest fell away, and Alec’s fingertips brushed his neck, loosening his tie and letting it slip to the floor.

Alec pulled back, hand lifting Magnus’ jaw. “Chin up.”

Magnus complied, allowing Alec to undo the top buttons. Alec’s brow was stitched together with stubborn focus. Then Alec’s hands were on Magnus’ shoulders, pushing the vest off. Alec’s hands trailed over Magnus’ biceps and down his sides, fingers skimming his hips as he untucked Magnus’ shirt.

“No more three piece suits when you come see me,” Alec said as he slid his hands under Magnus’ shirt and grasped onto Magnus’ hips.

“I have a reputation to uphold,” Magnus half-protested. It was nearly impossible to feign annoyance with Alec’s hands on him.

Alec’s fingers delved under Magnus’ waistband. “And exactly what kind of reputation would that be? Because I thought for sure you’d be the type to go without underwear at all.”

Magnus grinned at that. “Normally, I would be. But I always wear an extra layer of protection while flying.”

Alec pushed his hips against Magnus’. “Don’t want to show off for a TSA agent, huh?”

If the size of what Alec was caressing against him was any indication, Magnus wasn’t the only one who had something to show off. Magnus smirked.

“The list of people who get to see me in my full glory _is_ exclusive.” Magnus paused to consider the validity of that claim. “Unless I’m drunk. But those are stories for Cat and Ragnor to tell you.”

Alec narrowed one eye. “Stories? As in plural?”

“Perhaps it isn’t as exclusive of an audience as I’d like to think.”

Alec’s hands slid up his back, pulling Magnus closer. “But only one now, right?”

“That is a bold question from a man who stated earlier that this is casual.” His voice was much rougher, much more unsure, than he would’ve liked.

Alec didn’t give him a moment to overthink it, though. “It’s not casual, Magnus, and you know it.”

After Alec had pulled away when Magnus had said those same words, Magnus had wondered…. But he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Alec touched him with a reverence none of his other lovers ever had.

Magnus let out a sigh of relief before he could hold it back, and Alec leaned down, kissing him softly. A kiss that was almost too much—too intimate, and too familiar—with the words he didn’t have the courage to say to Alec out loud sitting on his tongue.

There would be time for all of that later, though. For now, he wanted as much of Alec as Alec was willing to give him.

“Since there actually is a bed here,” Alec tipped his head toward the bedroom. “You, uh, want to move in that direction?”

“Aren’t we going to be interrupted by a food delivery?”

“I asked Rosa to leave the food outside the door.” Alec shrugged. “Unless…you’d rather wait?”

“I think we’ve waited long enough.”

“Thank fuck,” Alec said with a laugh that made Magnus’ skin tingle with eagerness. “Come on.”

Alec held out his hand and Magnus took it without hesitation.

They were only steps inside the bedroom before Alec was pulling Magnus into him. Into a kiss that was the awkwardness and perfection of all smiles and laughter for heartbeat, and two, then Alec’s hands were under Magnus’ shirt, the palms on the small of Magnus’ back crushing them together. Alec deepened the kiss and Magnus had no choice but to yield—wouldn’t have protested even if he could—as Alec fit his thigh between Magnus’ legs and brought them impossibly closer together. Magnus grasped on to Alec’s neck and teased his tongue against Alec’s, breathing him in.

 _This_.

Fuck. This connection to Alec was everything he needed. Everything he craved and couldn’t live without. He wanted Alec’s arms wrapped around him, Alec’s body moving with his. He couldn’t breathe when Alec was near him—let alone this close—but this air, shared between them, was the only thing he needed to survive. It was a mad thought—impractical and _passionate,_ everything he and Alec were together—and the only belief Magnus needed to know this—that they—were right.

Alec drew back, hands fumbling for purchase on Magnus’ shirt as he laughed. “For as many buttons as you leave usually leave undone, this shirt is actual torture.”

“Says the man who has barely an inch of skin showing,” Magnus retorted. He popped another button of Alec’s shirt open and brought his lips to the divot of Alec’s neck, softly sucking at the skin before he thought better of it. “I don’t want to leave any marks on you that will be visible tomorrow.”

Alec had his hand at the back of Magnus’ neck, holding him tight. “Anything below the neck will be covered by my gear. And I’m always the last in the showers.”

“That”—Magnus drew Alec’s skin between his teeth—“sounds like an invitation.”

“More like…” Alec tilted his head back. “Shit, Magnus. I’m begging.”

Magnus kissed the reddening spot once more, then settled his hand on Alec’s chest as he gazed into Alec’s blown-out hazel eyes. If Magnus didn’t slow this down a few notches, neither of them would make it to naked before it was over. “The wait has been worth it so far. Let’s…take this slowly—one button at a time.”

Alec scrunched his brow together, an endearing frustration tugging his lips into a determined line. “Yeah.” Alec took a deep breath and met Magnus’ eyes. “Yeah, I can do that for you.”

Magnus was surprised to find his own hands shaking as he reached for the next button of Alec’s shirt.

“Hey,” Alec said quietly, covering Magnus’ hands with his. “Nothing to be nervous about. It’s just you and me.”

Magnus’ heart ached with exquisite desperation as Alec took Magnus’ hands in his, placing a kiss on each finger as he slowly removed each of Magnus’ rings.

Magnus was…overwhelmed. He was never this needy, never this eager to draw sex out and make every second count. He knew that no matter what happened, he’d leave here tonight satisfied, but Alec…? He’d never held this much desire to make his partner feel as treasured as Alec made him feel.

This was more than getting off. This was about being here _together_.

Alec dropped the rings on a dresser by the bed and pulled Magnus close again. His hands worked down the line of Magnus’ shirt, fingers merely grazing as if he was memorizing every inch of skin that was revealed. Magnus let Alec take his time, unbuttoning Alec’s shirt with the same deliberate slowness, even though his entire body was begging for more. Now.

Cool air hit Magnus’ chest as Alec undid the last of the buttons, then Alec’s hands were sliding up Magnus’ chest and over his shoulders, pushing the fabric away. Alec’s lips went to Magnus’ neck again, Magnus inhaling a shuddering breath as his shirt fell to the floor.

They were chest-to-chest now—skin against skin, the coolness of Magnus’ necklaces warming between them—and Alec held onto him, surrounding Magnus in his protective embrace. Alec peppered a line of kisses over Magnus’ shoulder and dug his nails into Magnus’ back.

“Exactly how…prepared are you for this, Alexander?” Magnus tested.

Alec smiled against his skin. “Jace didn’t have any condoms, but he refused to let me leave without taking a travel packet of lube. It’s in my pocket.”

“You have one button to go then, Alexander,” Magnus whispered as he kissed the slope of Alec’s biceps.

Alec’s fingers dragged down Magnus’ back, dipped around Magnus’ hips, and Magnus held his breath as Alec’s hands finally found the button on Magnus’ pants and undid it, dropping Magnus’ pants to the floor.

Alec palmed his ass, kneading the muscle in strong hands and thrusting them together. Magnus couldn’t stop the moan that came from deep in his chest. He rocked against Alec then pushed the shirt off Alec’s shoulders. Alec let go just long enough to let his shirt fall away before he was wrapping Magnus up again and tumbling them into the bed, into a laughing tangle of limbs.

Magnus couldn’t touch enough of Alec. He wanted, needed, to touch Alec everywhere at once. He wanted to learn every slope of muscle, drag his lips over every inch of skin. To lavish just as much adoration over Alec as Alec was showing him. To burn this moment so deep into his memory that it would be sealed away at a cellular level so he could carry it forever.

He dove in for another breath-stealing kiss and lay out on top of Alec, rubbing his body against Alec’s. Magnus still had his underwear on and due to their fall he hadn’t gotten to Alec’s pants yet. The sensation of his cock riding against Alec’s with those barriers between them made his heart thunder in his ears.

Magnus sucked Alec’s lip between his teeth, then kissed a line down Alec’s neck and drew his hips back, unabashedly rocking himself against the leg Alec still had between his own.

Alec circled his hands around Magnus’ hips as Magnus languidly stroked himself against Alec’s thigh.

Alec’s fingers dipped below the waistband. “You want to take these off?”

“Impatient?”

Alec skimmed his hand over Magnus’ stomach, fingertips grazing Magnus’ cock. “Want you, Magnus. Need to know how you feel.”

Magnus shivered from the low timbre of Alec’s voice.

He arched, brushing his cock against Alec’s hand. “Touch me, Alexander.”

The feather-light sensation of Alec’s fingertips grew insistent as Alec pushed his briefs down and began to stroke him. The heat and friction of Alec’s sure grip on him had Magnus’ thoughts scrambling, and his back bowing into Alec’s touch. Alec’s hand was finally on him, but it was Alec’s heavy-lidded gaze that made Magnus feel like he was on fire. Magnus’ breath caught, eyes fluttering shut. Alec circled his hand around Magnus’ cock and gripped him tightly.

Magnus leaned back, giving Alec more room to work. He dragged his fingers down Alec’s chest, appreciating the chillbumps that pebbled over Alec’s skin where his fingers trailed.

“Fuck,” Alec gritted out. “I thought you were beautiful before. But you, like this….” Alec slid his hand up Magnus’ chest. “I want to see you come with my hands on you.”

Magnus was helpless to do anything but whimper at that.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the night you stripped for me. Want to feel those necklaces on my skin. Want you to hold me down—”

Magnus gripped Alec’s wrist, pushing Alec’s arm over his head. “Like this?”

“Fuck,” Alec exhaled, sliding the head of his dick against Magnus’ stomach.

Alec’s grip loosened on Magnus’ cock as Magnus draped himself over Alec and locked his lips to Alec’s neck. Magnus worked lower, taking Alec’s nipple between his lips, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh. Alec gasped and Magnus went for the button on Alec’s pants, popping it open.

They’d already careened way past the line of professionalism and a client-agent relationship, but this night wasn’t about lines or crossing boundaries. They both needed this night. Needed this connection. Needed each other. Magnus hadn’t had a relationship of any kind since Camille, and he knew already that one night with Alec wouldn’t be enough. Not two, not an entire years worth…. He was letting Alec past his carefully constructed walls, inviting him inside…to stay.

Magnus thrust up against Alec’s groin, another low moan escaping Alec’s lips. Magnus wanted to spend every second they had tonight, and for years to come, drawing that sound out of Alec over and over again.

Alec began to push his own pants down and Magnus settled a hand on Alec’s, stopping him. He needed to see Alec spread out for him.

Magnus arched against Alec’s body, losing himself in the drag of smooth skin on the roughness of Alec’s chest and down his muscled torso. He settled between Alec’s legs and mouthed at the cotton of Alec’s briefs, hot breath teasing at the thin barrier between them.

Alec’s hips arched off the bed and Magnus circled his hands around to Alec’s ass, fingers sliding below Alec’s waistband, dragging Alec’s pants down until Magnus’ hands were digging into the muscles. He licked up Alec’s cloth-covered dick, teeth catching on the waistband and pulling Alec’s briefs just far enough down that his cock slipped out.

Alec fisted his hands in the sheets, breath ragged, as Magnus hungrily took the sight of all of Alec in. A drop of pre-cum beaded on the tip of Alec’s cock and Magnus swiped it away with his tongue as a litany of swear words passed through Alec’s lips.

Magnus licked his lips, taking in the taste of Alec—fuck, this man was beyond sinful addiction—and let go of Alec’s ass, sliding his hands over Alec’s hips.

Magnus stood and Alec groaned, Alec’s hand circling the base of his own cock. Alec was biting his lip, staring at Magnus through his lashes.

A wicked smile pulled at Magnus’ lips. “Problem, my angel?”

“Yeah. Your hands aren’t on me,” Alec breathed out.

Magnus rested one knee on the bed and leaned over Alec, keeping their bodies from touching. He kissed Alec’s lips once, then drew back only a fraction so he could work his mouth up Alec’s jaw until he was drawing Alec’s earlobe between his teeth. “Patience, Alexander.”

Magnus slid his hand down Alec’s chest as he went for the lube in Alec’s pocket. Alec’s abs twitched under Magnus’ touch, and Alec drew in a sharp inhale as Magnus palmed the packet and stood at the end of the bed. There was a flush on Alec’s cheeks, his chest was heaving, hair askew from Magnus running his hands through it, and a defined, glistening red mark at the base of Alec’s throat. He wanted to leave marks like that all over Alec’s body.

Alec still had his hand around his cock and Magnus took that sight in with a heat that raced through his body, burning brighter than wildfire. This was a view no one else in the world got. And a view Magnus wanted to keep to himself for as long as Alec would have him.

Fuck. He needed to have his own hand where Alec’s was, to worship every inch of Alec’s body with his fingers and lips, but first….

Magnus teased at the edges of his underwear, only the head of his cock jutting out. “Would you like for me to take these off?”

Alec leaned back on one elbow and circled his hand over the top of his dick, a sly smile on his kiss-swollen lips. “Gentleman’s choice, Mr. Bane.”

Magnus quirked an eyebrow at that. Couldn’t take his eyes off Alec lying there, legs spread as he worked himself over. “What if the gentleman wants to see you naked, Mr. Lightwood?”

Alec sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, just far enough to drop his last two pieces of clothing to the floor. And that view…. Magnus’ ached with a hunger that had nothing to do with their delayed meal.

“I’ve shown you mine, you show me yours. Someone once made a similar deal with me.” Alec bit at his lip and beckoned for Magnus. “So why don’t you let me take those off?”

Magnus stepped between the v of Alec’s open legs and Alec placed a soft kiss on each hipbone, fingers delving below the waistband and shedding Magnus’ briefs in a slow, deliberate slide of calloused fingers across Magnus’ skin.

Alec kissed up his thighs, his beard leaving a delicious sting in its wake that made Magnus shiver and his hips pump up, seeking the heat of Alec’s mouth on him. “You’re killing me, Alexander.”

Alec chuckled and licked a swipe up Magnus’ balls, nose brushing against Magnus’ length in a sinful caress that had Magnus struggling for breath.

“Now who’s impatient?” Alec teased, then enveloped Magnus’ cock in his mouth without warning.

Magnus let loose an involuntary string of swear words and threaded his fingers through Alec’s hair, thrusting his cock deeper into Alec’s mouth. Alec took all of him in with a rumbling moan. Alec’s powerful hands slid up the back of Magnus’ thighs, cupping Magnus’ ass and digging his fingers in.

Magnus couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Each swipe of Alec’s tongue sent shockwaves through his body that threatened to bring Magnus to his knees.

Alec gripped him tighter, held him up and rocked Magnus’ hips forward, Alec’s mouth pulling him closer and closer to the edge. Magnus clamped his eyes shut, couldn’t watch Alec’s lips spread wide around his dick or he was going to come. He drew back and his cock slipped out of Alec’s mouth with a wet pop.

Magnus pushed at Alec’s shoulder, guiding him to the bed. Alec spread his legs and Magnus draped himself over Alec with deliberate slowness. He ground down on Alec, rutting against him.

“I’ve taken a liking to this ‘in control’ side of you, Alexander,” he whispered in Alec’s ear. He popped the lube open and trickled it along Alec’s length. “But now I’m ready for you to _lose_ control.”

Magnus took both of their cocks in his hand and stroked them together, Alec’s hips pumping up as he threw his head back.

“Just like that,” Magnus said roughly, biting his lip to keep from saying every lewd thought that passed through his head.

Alec pumped into his hand, breath hitching, and Magnus braced himself so he could stroke them both off. With each slick twist of his hand over their cocks, Alec let loose a moan that spurred Magnus on, until Alec was writhing beneath him, color high on his cheeks, gasping for breath.

Magnus leaned down to take Alec’s nipple in his mouth and Alec gasped.

“Fuck yes. Just like that, Magnus.”

His name on Alec’s lips sent a shot of desire through Magnus’ body that left him struggling for breath.

Alec shuddered, his fingers digging into Magnus’ thighs. The sounds of Alec’s ragged breathing and the slick suck of Magnus rubbing them off echoed in Magnus’ ears. The cords of Alec’s neck went tight, jaw clenching, as the roll of his hips became more erratic and he came, spilling over Magnus’ hand. Alec’s back bowed, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Magnus could only think of what it had looked like to see his cock in Alec’s mouth before he was letting go too. His eyes clamped shut, toes curled, and Alec’s hand was warm around his balls, amplifying Magnus’ release until he was sure he was about to black out.

Magnus struggled to hold himself up, still hovering over Alec’s body, panting, sweating. His hand was a mess, his skin. He was wrecked.

And Alec…?

Alec looked just as debauched.

It was _stunning_.

“Let me clean you up,” Magnus offered as he gazed down at Alec, his breathing nowhere near under control.

Alec looked up at Magnus, grinning. “Kiss me first?”

Alec pulled him down—Magnus’ skin was overly sensitive, yet he still craved Alec’s touch—and Alec’s lips found his. A slow kiss of sated smiles.

“We’re making a mess of the bed I have to sleep in, Alexander.”

“Complaining?”

Magnus shook his head. Quite the contrary. “Loving the thought.”

Alec smiled against his lips.

Magnus kissed Alec’s jaw and down his neck, nipping at the red mark there before he reluctantly pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”

He trailed his lips down Alec’s chest then got up, heading for the bathroom. The mirror confirmed what he already knew—his hair was a mess, his necklaces tangled, and his makeup smeared. He looked as blissed out as he felt in every cell of his body. He cleaned himself with the warming water and waited it for it to be hot before soaking a washcloth for Alec.

He took in every inch of Alec as he entered the bedroom—the gleam of sweat on his skin, his hair sticking up in all directions, the ruby sheen of his lips. He crawled onto the bed—recognizing with complete and utter satisfaction that Alec’s smile mirrored his own—and set to cleaning Alec up as Alec watched him through lowered lashes. He trailed kisses with each swipe of the cloth, earning sharpened, quick breaths from Alec with each press of his lips to Alec’s skin. When he was done he tossed the washcloth into the laundry basket and sat down at Alec’s side.

“You know,” Magnus mused, running a finger down Alec’s side. “I was under the impression that you never came the night before a game.”

Alec smirked. “Some superstitions are meant to be broken. And I’ve picked up a few new ones since meeting you.”

He’d noticed. Magnus touched the bracelet on Alec’s wrist. “Do you wear this all the time?”

Alec urged Magnus down next to him, kissing Magnus’ head when Magnus was curled up next to him. “I only take it off for games.”

Magnus rested his chin on Alec’s chest and gazed up at him.

Fuck, he was so in love with Alec it hurt.

With the intensity with which Alec was looking at him now—and had been all night—he had to believe Alec’s thoughts were straying close to that line as well.

“You have to be starving by now,” Alec said.

“It was worth the wait.” Magnus kissed Alec’s chest. “I’ll go get the food. Stay here.”

Magnus stood and swiped Alec’s shirt off the floor, shrugging it over his shoulders and rolling up the sleeves. “I suppose, at the very least, I should cover up the parts reserved only for you. Just in case I run into any neighbors in the hallway.”

Alec’s beard wasn’t thick enough to cover the blush that followed.

Magnus was intrigued. “That is one of the least lewd things I’ve said tonight. Why this brilliant shade of pink?”

“Nothing,” Alec said in a rush.

Magnus quirked an eyebrow.

“You wearing my clothes is way too fucking hot,” Alec relented, sitting up. “Come here.”

Alec fisted his hands in the shirt when Magnus was close enough, and dragged Magnus to him, crushing their lips together again.

“Okay, you can go now,” Alec said when he pulled back. Magnus started to stand again, but Alec was already yanking him back into another kiss, laughing. “Okay, now.”

Magnus couldn’t resist giving Alec one more chaste kiss before he stood.

Just as promised, the food was outside the door—as was his suitcase and jacket. Both of which he’d completely forgotten about in the rush to get here. Magnus swiped up everything and maneuvered his way back into the bedroom. Alec had stripped off the duvet and was wearing only his boxer briefs, sitting up, waiting for Magnus.

And that was a view that would have sold every bottle of overpriced vitamin water Gallant could pump out, but Magnus was more than happy to keep it to himself.

Magnus dropped his suitcase and jacket at the end of the bed, set the food down on the sheets, and crawled onto the bed next to Alec.

Rosa had thought of everything. There was silverware and a bottle of wine, with an opener. Two plastic glasses, and cloth napkins that Magnus laid out across the sheets. Alec started unpacking the food quietly, stealing glances every now and then at Magnus.

Dinner was divine—if a bit messy to be eating in bed—but not nearly as divine as the Angel who kept one part of his body always touching Magnus as they ate quietly. It should have been a perfect moment, but as the minutes ticked by, Alec’s brow began to furrow.

“Thinking about the game tomorrow?” Magnus tried.

Alec shook his head. Didn’t say anything else.

“About us?” Magnus pressed.

Alec nodded and took a drink from his cup.

Magnus set down his fork and tried to tamp down the worry that made his stomach clench. “What about?”

“Tonight was…. Fuck.” Alec frowned. “Tonight was great, Magnus. What I’ve been waiting for for so long, and I want _more_ ….”

Magnus knew what word came next. “But?”

Alec lifted his eyes to Magnus. “But what does this mean for our working relationship?”

Magnus released a relieved sigh. That worry he could work with. “Even with tonight’s events, I’m confident in my ability to be able to do my job. I want to remain your agent for now so I can help protect you. But that decision is ultimately up to you, Alexander.”

“I trust you,” Alec said adamantly. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Okay,” Magnus agreed without hesitation.

Alec set his wine on the nightstand. “But what if Imogen asks?”

How he planned to handle his boss was something he’d been thinking about since stepping foot on the plane in Texas. But now, he found, the answer was easy.

“Someone once told me I say a lot, but give nothing away. That skill may come in useful.”

Alec’s frown deepened. “You’re going to lie to her.”

Yes, he was. There was no other choice now. “I’m going to protect you—whatever that takes.”

“Magnus—”

“It’s okay, Alexander. I made my choice the second I let you in my door that first night we spent together.”

“I’m worried—”

Magnus silenced him with a soft kiss. “None of that in here.” They’d have plenty of time to worry later. Magnus gestured between them. “This is all that matters right now.”

“Okay.”

Alec entwined their fingers together, lifting Magnus’ hand to kiss the back.

“Do you know what the beauty of queer sex is?” Magnus asked with a smug smile.

Alec returned the smirk. “I think I have a few ideas.”

Magnus grinned. If tonight had proved anything, it was that Alec _definitely_ wasn’t short on ideas. “What we just did wouldn’t technically be considered sex by many straight people since there wasn’t any penetration.”

“I, uh….” Alec scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “That. I’d like to try that, eventually, too.”

“We can do all of it. Every idea you’ve had swirling in your head.”

Alec bit at his lip. “Which head?”

Magnus couldn’t hold back laughter. “I enjoy this side of you very much.”

Alec wiped his hands with the napkin and glanced at the clock. “It’s after ten. I need to get dressed and get back to the hotel.”

Magnus hated hockey and curfews in that moment. He hated time. All he wanted to do was fall into bed with Alec next to him. To wake up next to him.

But tonight wouldn’t be that night.

“Let me dress and ride with you to the hotel. I want to take every moment I can with you.”

 

****

 

Alec gripped Magnus’ hand tighter and led him through the elevator door into the underground parking lot. Rosa and Carter were waiting by the car, hovering over Rosa’s phone. Alec frowned. He was doing too much of that in the last few minutes for a night that had been even more than he’d expected.

“Something wrong?” he asked as they approached the car.

Rosa held up her phone to show them the picture on her screen. “There’s currently a group of fans waiting outside the Omni.”

Alec couldn’t make sense of the sheer number of people in the photo. “What the hell are all those people doing there?”

“They’re there for you,” Rosa said. She clicked off the picture and looked at Alec. “One of your fans saw you leaving the hotel tonight and put the info out on Twitter. They’ve been waiting for you to get back.”

He glanced at Magnus—his heart thumping madly—and Magnus squeezed his hand.

“You’re sure it was a fan?” Alec asked. He couldn’t filter the fear out of his voice.

“As far as I can tell, it was.” Rosa stitched her eyebrows together, her eyes bouncing between he and Magnus. “Is there a problem?”

Alec shook his head. Only time would tell if it actually was a fan, or if someone else was using the fans to try to out Alec.

“What is security doing to mitigate the risk?” Magnus asked, his professional tone kicking in.

“Security can only keep them off hotel property,” Rosa answered, “but any public spaces like sidewalks or alleys are fair game unless the city steps in. I’ve been advised to take Alec to the back entrance of the hotel. There’s people there too, but they’ve assured me they have enough staff to handle Alec’s arrival.”

Alec knew what that meant. “So there’s a good chance if Magnus comes with me, they’ll see him?”

Rosa nodded.

Magnus put on a smile that Alec knew was forced. “I suppose this is where I say goodnight, then.”

Alec took a deep breath and looked to Rosa. “Could you give us a minute?”

Rosa nodded, climbing into the front seat, while Carter turned her back to them and waited by the car.

This wasn’t how he’d intended to leave Magnus tonight. He didn’t want to leave him _at all_.

Alec sighed. “We say goodnight to each other too much.”

“Which would be fine, if it was followed hours later by good morning,” Magnus said. “We’ll do that soon. Don’t worry.”

Alec leaned down, putting his forehead to Magnus’, resting his hand at the small of Magnus’ back to pull him close.

“Go, Alexander. You can’t be late.”

Alec placed one last kiss on Magnus’ lips. “I’ll see you back in New York.”

Carter held the door open and Alec slipped inside, unable to take his eyes off Magnus until he disappeared into the elevator. When the door was shut, he dropped his head against the headrest and closed his eyes, sighing.

He and Raj had spent most of their time off campus in Alec’s car, seeking private places just to get off. They’d never really gone _out_.

This was the only real date he’d ever gone on.

And it had to end like _this_.

He thought about sending Magnus something, tried to figure out what the right gift would be to say _I’m sorry I’m such a fucking coward_. Something that would say _I love you_ , because Alec was too terrified to say those words out loud.

How could he risk putting those words out there at all in this situation?

Alec had pushed them to this point. He’d been the one to show up at Magnus’ door, asking for their relationship to change. He’d been the one to ask Magnus to come here. It was because of him that they’d had to be hidden away tonight where no one would see them together. He wasn’t out and it was affecting Magnus.

His closet door was open now, but he’d dragged Magnus inside.

Alec’s stomach rolled.

“Rosa?” She twisted around in the front seat, and Alec leaned forward. “Can you make sure that Magnus gets croissants and jam tomorrow morning before he goes to the airport? And a cup of green tea, with honey and lemon.” He smiled, but knew it was as thin and vulnerable as he felt. “With a shot of whiskey on the side, please.”

“Of course. I’ll have Carter bring him to one of my favorite bakeries on the way to the airport, they’ll take good care of him.”

Alec swallowed against the ache in his chest. It wasn’t nearly enough of an effort, but it was a start. “Thank you.”

“ _De nada_.” Rosa tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “What can I do for you?”

Alec ran his fingers through his hair. He knew it wasn’t possible, but…. “Any way to avoid the fans completely?”

“You don’t have to stop and talk to any of the fans if you don’t want to, but there are going to be pictures of you. We can’t stop that.”

Alec nodded. He wasn’t in the headspace for this, but he could get there. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to them. Sign a few autographs.”

“I’ll let security know.” Rosa cleared her throat, eyes dipping discretely lower. “You may want to button up too.”

Alec glanced down, realizing the top buttons on his shirt were undone and knew—without being able to see the mark—exactly what that showed off. “Fuck.” Rosa was restraining a smile, and Alec let out a nervous chuckle. “This is not the way I expected the night to end.”

Rosa shook her head, mumbling under her breath. “ _Twitter es de los más gacho_.”

It was slightly different wording than Izzy would use, but Alec got the gist. He huffed and buttoned his shirt all the way. “Fucking Twitter is right.”

 

****

 

Magnus scowled and dropped onto the bed, now stripped of all its linens.

He’d known he wouldn’t be able to spend the night with Alec, but it didn’t change how much he still wanted Alec here.

By now, Alec would be arriving at the hotel. His stomach clenched as he thought about Alec heading into a stressful situation alone.

Magnus wanted to be there with Alec. He wanted to not have to hide. But here he was, across town from Alec, in some stranger’s loft. Doing laundry because the protective side of him said there couldn’t be any sign of Alec being here tonight. Stuffing away containers of food and half-drunk wine glasses and dropping them down the garbage chute so there was no chance of anyone piecing together that there had been two people eating dinner.

He’d just had sex with the man he was in love with, and he was systematically erasing the night as if it had never happened.

Magnus sagged onto the mattress and reached for his phone from the nightstand. Perhaps the situation wouldn’t seem as dismal if someone could put it in perspective for him. The list of people whom he both trusted and were aware of the delicate situation with Alec was pitifully short.

If Ragnor deemed to answer Magnus’ call, he would be too pragmatic and ornery. Catarina would likely pick up right away, but be too empathetic and compassionate. Clary would be able to listen to him, and could straddle the line between his polar opposite friends, but Magnus was her boss _and_ had obfuscated where he was going today.

Alec didn’t want Izzy to know Magnus had come here until Alec could talk to her himself, so that ruled out both her and Max. Tessa was a possibility, but she was so embedded in the dynamics of Alec’s superstitions that she likely wasn’t the right choice either. Jocelyn would listen. But she would have advice—she always did. Magnus wasn’t seeking someone to tell him what he did or didn’t need to do. He scrolled through his contacts, reaching nearly the bottom of the list….

Was he seriously considering calling Simon?

Magnus tossed his cell phone to the bed, putting his head in his hands.

If he was going to sulk alone, he may as well do it in a hot shower. Maybe then he’d be able to sleep. He pushed off the bed and rummaged through his suitcase for his toiletry bag, coming across the copy of Tarasov’s book that Magnus had carried with him for weeks now. He’d been reading it slowly, trying to understand how Tarasov’s words had shaped who Alec was today. He swore under his breath, closed the suitcase and headed for the bathroom.

He froze halfway there when it hit him….

Will and Jem. Two men who slid in and out of their own self-imposed closets on a daily basis, because the world wasn’t always a kind place to those who loved more than one person.

Will’s personality was much too similar to his own for Magnus to gain any new insight from him.

But Jem…?

He’d never been as close to Jem as he was to Will, but that was mostly because Jem never imposed himself on anyone. Then there was the fact that he and Jem were both bisexual men, who now had a shared experience. Jem had been desperately in love with both Tessa and Will the first time the three of them had fallen into bed together—to be fair, Will had been too—but Jem had been out and Will hadn’t been.

Magnus glanced at the clock. Despite the late hour, he guessed he’d find Jem still awake. He picked up his phone again. _Do you have time to talk? I need a sounding board_

_On par with what I’m doing right now. Give me a minute_

That meant Jem was in the studio, as usual. Likely with Will. They were musical collaborators. Partners. Just not the kind anyone outside of their inner circle thought. And it had taken them years to come to the right balance for that to work.

Why hadn’t he thought of that before this?

Magnus settled onto the couch just as Jem was calling him. “I thought I’d find you awake,” Magnus greeted him.

“I should’ve been asleep an hour ago,” Jem grumbled. “Then Will jumped out of bed like a madman and threw my violin at me. I had no choice but to first protect Tessa’s face, second my instrument, then follow him.”

Magnus could picture that scene way too easily. “It sounds like a normal evening to me.”

Jem laughed. “Unfortunately so. Tessa’s curled up on the couch in the studio now. She had the evening off and wanted a quiet night in with the three of us, but then, well…. Will happened. The new couch we got for her seems to be good, though. Somehow, she’s sleeping soundly regardless of Will’s determination to prove the piano is most definitely a percussion instrument.”

Magnus chuckled. “The two of you take good care of her.”

“Tessa has many men watching over her—including you—and she needs none of us. We’re lucky she keeps us around.”

“Agreed.”

Jem was quiet for a moment, then, “It’s good to hear your voice, Magnus.”

Coming from someone else, the change of topic could have been a platitude or a veiled guilt trip. But this was Jem’s unobtrusive way of shifting the direction of the conversation to Magnus’ control.

Magnus curled his legs under him. “I didn’t seek to distract you, or derail any magical composition you and Will are bringing to life, but since it appears I’ve already done both, I’ll get to the reason for my call.”

“Will would probably say something about your existence in and of itself being a distraction to the world, but I have much stronger powers of concentration. Please. Go ahead.”

“Alec and I had sex tonight. For the first time.”

Magnus stared out the windows at the downtown lights as he waited for Jem to piece together everything Magnus had implied with those two simple sentences.

“He’s still not out, right?”

“He’s not,” Magnus confirmed. “I’m currently in a rented apartment across town from him, because the team has a strict curfew on nights before games. I don’t fly out until the morning, but I won’t see him again until we’re both back in New York.”

“You miss him already,” Jem stated.

“I do.”

“And yet, you’re hurt.”

He didn’t want to be, but the truth was, “I am.”

“Tell me about him,” Jem said in a voice scratched with the pain of old memories. “About what you miss.”

Magnus inhaled a shuddering breath. He remembered Tessa talking about the nights when Will would take off, too proud to admit he was scared. About how she would hold Jem, and remind him of all the things Will did that showed how much he loved them both. How those reminders helped to bridge the gap they’d attempted to blindly jump when they moved from friends to lovers.

How Tessa had worked to convince Jem that Will needed the time separate from Jem because his world had been inverted—but that didn’t mean Will loved him any less.

“Will is still clattering away on the piano,” Jem said after a moment. “So I probably have all night, even if you just want to sit in silence.”

“No,” Magnus answered. He could have quiet on his own. He’d sought out Jem because he needed someone not who could just listen, but could also understand. He was hurting, but that pain stemmed from a mere fraction of the time he’d spent with Alec tonight. There was so much good between he and Alec, and that’s what he needed to remember tonight. “I’d love to tell you about Alexander.”

 

****

 

Alec’s cell pinged with a text from Jace as they turned the corner toward the hotel. _On your way back yet? You saw what’s happening right?_

 _Yeah_ , he typed back. _Looks like a lot of people in the pictures. How is it really?_

_Emil and Bat are at the front with a few of the younger guys. Having way too much fun. Back entrance doesn’t look too bad from up here_

Alec furrowed his brow. An impromptu fan event like that was usually Jace’s scene. _Why aren’t you down there?_

_Self preservation_

Great. _Good job keeping me calm, Captain_

_You know coach wouldn’t allow it to happen if it really was out of control_

Alec hadn’t even thought of that. His nervousness ticked down a notch.

The car came to a stop, the distinctive three towers of the Omni and a group of at least twenty people closing in around him. He could do this. He’d dealt with much bigger crowds before.

Alec took a deep breath and glanced at this cell. “I only have ten minutes to curfew.”

Rosa nodded. “We’ll limit the time you’re out there. Stay here until I open the door.”

Rosa met hotel security, leaning in to speak to them so no one else could hear. The staff cleared as much of a path as they could and Rosa confidently strode up to his door.

Alec ran his hand through his hair one more time and emerged. He grabbed the first photograph offered to him—realizing too late that he didn’t even have a pen, but then Rosa was at his side again, pressing a Sharpie into his hand. Every flash that went off made him wonder what the lens was capturing. What details of how he’d spent his night that he may be giving away that he didn’t even realize were there.

Whether or not one of these people had been sent here by Sebastian.

But he didn’t even have time for his worry to take hold. He was only outside for a few minutes before hotel security was announcing Alec was done and pushing him toward the door.

Alec glanced over his shoulder seeking out Rosa, but she was already getting into the car. So the first thing he did when he was in the quiet of a hotel storeroom was to send off a text to Rosa to thank her. The head of security introduced himself, and Alec spent another few minutes signing autographs for the entire team as a thank you before he made his way to the elevators. Of course, Garroway was waiting in the lobby.

Garroway glanced at his watch. “You want to join the other guys out front before I drag them back in here?”

Alec couldn’t tell whether Garroway was serious or giving him shit. Didn’t matter either way, though. “No thank you, Coach. I’m, uh— I’m done for the night.”

Garroway narrowed his eyes, the hint of a smirk on his lips and his voice dropping low, authoritative. “Get some sleep, Lightwood.”

Alec nodded. “Night, Coach.”

Alec took the elevators up and trudged into his hotel room to find Jace pacing, his phone in his hand. “Alec is back. I’ll text you tomorrow, okay?”

The speakerphone was muffled as Jace turned away from him, but Alec thought he heard a familiar voice saying goodbye.

Alec kicked off his shoes. “Lydia?”

Jace’s lips were tugged down as he turned toward Alec again. “Yeah…. And Clary. They went out after their kickboxing class.”

There was a part of him that knew he should be worried about making sure Jace hadn’t slipped up and told Clary where he’d been tonight, but there was only so much he could worry about. “Everything good with them?”

“Um, yeah.” He dumped his cell on the bed and plopped down next to it. “How was your night?”

Alec surveyed their hotel room, a sense of surrealism passing through him. The TV was running, Jace’s side of the room was a disaster of room service trays, clothes and a rumpled bed, while Alec’s half was clean, organized, pristine. Everything was just like any other night on the road before a game, except it wasn’t.

Alec unbuttoned his dress shirt and went for his suitcase. He could only think of one way to summarize the past four hours. “The best _and_ worst night of my life.”

“Everything good with you and Magnus?”

Alec smiled sadly, then brought his features under control as he peered over his shoulder at Jace. “He’s…. He’s amazing.”

Alec needed to take a shower, but he couldn’t bear to think about washing the scent of Magnus’ cologne off him.

There was so little he had to hold onto to prove that tonight had been real.

He stripped his shirt off and tossed it in the corner instead of hanging it up, then dropped his suit pants into a heap on the floor and kicked them out of the way. He was making a mess of his life, why not his surroundings too?

Jace nodded. “But?”

“But I left him in some random loft across town like he’s a dirty secret,” Alec bit out. He tugged at the hair at the back of his neck. “I’m going to fuck this up, Jace. I already am.”

Jace clenched his jaw as he got to his feet. “Did he say something to you?”

Alec shook his head, unsurprised at Jace’s protective reaction, but wanting to protect Magnus with just as much force. “No. Of course not. He’s willing to do whatever it takes.”

Jace’s brotherly rage calmed down immediately.

“Good. Then let him.” Jace sauntered over to Alec’s shirt and pants, picking them up, and placing them on two hangers that he offered to Alec.

Alec accepted the hangers from Jace’s hands, unsure what to say.

“So, um….” Jace’s signature smirk stretched across his face as he gestured in the direction of Alec’s chest. “You got laid, huh?”

Alec’s cheeks went supernova. A lot of the night was still a blur that he was trying to process, but that was one thing he knew for sure. The thought of just how good the night had been, up until thirty minutes ago, brought a grin to his face that he knew Jace would pounce on as confirmation.

“I would give you a high five, but since there’s glitter in your beard I’m pretty sure I know where your hands have been.”

“Shut up, Jace,” Alec groaned. He tracked around him to hang his clothes in the closet.

“Personally, I can’t wait to see how this improves your game tomorrow. You know, since you _finally_ took my advice.”

Alec huffed out a gruff ‘good night’ to Jace and sprawled out on his bed, burying his head under a pillow.

Screw taking a shower. Even if he couldn’t spend the night with Magnus, maybe this way he’d still wake up with glitter on his sheets.

 

****

 

Magnus woke suddenly to someone pounding on the door and was barely able to blink his eyes open. He’d ended up talking to Jem much longer than he’d intended to. At least the end result had been him being able to fall into a deep, restful sleep—he squinted at the alarm clock next to the bed—which was now being interrupted at an ungodly hour. The rude, insistent knock echoed through the loft again.

Magnus yanked on a pair of pants and threw the door open to find a sweaty Angels’ left-winger in the hallway, smirking.

Magnus glared as ferociously as he could at Jace for the early hour. “In the interest of preserving our blossoming business relationship, I won’t raise my voice. A courtesy you may want to return by succinctly explaining to me why you’re attempting to bludgeon down my door before even the sun has the gall to rise.”

“I can’t fucking believe I’m awake at this time either,” Jace replied. “Brush your teeth, get dressed fast, pack your stuff, and come with me.”

“Exactly where are you absconding me to?”

Jace hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Back to my hotel.”

“Mr. Wayland,” Magnus huffed. “I realize that the events of last night—and my current state of undress—may give the impression that I cater in special ways to top clients, but that is certainly not the case.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest, Magnus. You’re about to be my agent and you’re Alec’s too. Showing up at our hotel for a meeting before we go to the arena wouldn’t be unusual.”

Magnus paused. Took in what Jace was saying. “Did Alexander ask you to come here?”

“Alec is still asleep. He hated that you were here and he couldn’t stay with you.”

But if Alec was still asleep, “How did you know where I was?”

“Alec should really change the passcode on his phone to something other than ‘Bane.’”

Magnus didn’t bother to hide his affection for that revelation. “Give me five minutes.”

He didn’t like being rushed in the mornings, but seeing Alec one last time would be worth it. He couldn’t move past the hurt that accompanied the circumstances he and Alec had to operate under, but Jem had reminded him that all of this was temporary. That they needed time apart to work through their emotions, as well as time together to remind each other that the pain meant there was something worth fighting for.

Of course he wanted to see Alec. He missed him.

He held the door open just long enough for Jace to enter the loft, then darted for the bathroom.

“Are there any surfaces in here that are safe for me to sit on?” Jace yelled from the main room.

Magnus paused in the middle of washing his face to give the cheeky answer Jace was begging for. “I believe one of the dining room chairs was left untouched, but I can’t recall which one.”

Jace stood looking out the windows, his arms crossed, when Magnus emerged five minutes later. Magnus bit back a smile—after all, Jace had come here of his own free will and for the benefit of he and Alec. “Are you ready?”

Jace faced him. “I got us an Uber back to the hotel. It’s downstairs already.”

Their Uber was a nearly ancient gold Prius that smelled of Camel cigarettes and years of perspiration, driven by man named Dexter that Magnus eyed suspiciously, but Magnus couldn’t find the will to complain out loud. Jace, playing the part of incognito sports star to a tee, pulled his cap low over his eyes and spent the entire ride scrolling through his phone. Magnus couldn’t even complain about that.

Jace was taking him to see Alexander.

They crossed over the river and into the downtown with almost no other cars on the road. The scene in front of the hotel was vastly different than the picture Rosa had showed them last night. Despite the entrance and lobby being free of anyone else besides a desk clerk, Magnus pulled Jace aside as they neared the elevators. “You’re sure this okay?”

“Even if it wasn’t, I’d still be doing it.” Jace jabbed the button to call the elevator. “But yeah, you’re fine.”

Magnus waited for the doors to close before he spoke again. “How was he last night?”

Jace crossed his arms and kept his gaze on the numbers ticking up as the elevator ascended. “I brought you here, didn’t I?”

That…. That wasn’t an answer at all. Magnus scowled.

“Neither you nor Alexander are morning people,” Magnus observed.

“Nope,” Jace popped out, and exited the elevator when the doors opened. Magnus had no choice but to follow…. And ponder if Alec would have any warmer of a greeting.

Jace slipped a key card out of his pocket, and held the door open for Magnus. But before Magnus could really get inside, Jace stopped him. “I’m going to take a shower. Just—” Jace leveled him with an exasperated gaze. “Try not to make a lot of noise, okay?”

Magnus merely smiled serenely.

“Whatever,” Jace dismissed, disappearing into the bathroom.

Magnus shut the door with a quiet click, left his suitcase by the closet, and made his way into the room. Alec was enshrouded by the hotel duvet, one leg kicked out of the sheets, only his face visible with the blanket swirled around his shoulders, a pillow half-covering his head.

Magnus crouched down by the side of the bed, his heart fluttering at the, frankly, adorable sight.

Alec looked so…peaceful. Magnus couldn’t bear to wake him up.

As if he knew Magnus was there, Alec’s eyes fluttered open, a slow smile spreading across his face as he took in Magnus. “Hey.”

Magnus sat down on the floor and rested his back on Jace’s bed. “Good morning, Alexander.”

“I like the sound of that much more than goodnight,” Alec mumbled sleepily, the last few words jumbled with a yawn.

“This morning would be much more delightful if I was naked as it appears you are.”

Alec lifted the edge of the comforter, providing Magnus with more than a hint of how little clothing Alec slept in. “Crawl in.”

Magnus stood, removed his suit jacket and shoes, and climbed into bed with Alec. He settled his back against Alec’s chest and Alec dropped an arm over him, dragging him closer.

Alec buried his head into the crook of Magnus’ neck and planted a soft kiss on his skin. “This is better.”

Magnus entwined his fingers with Alec’s and relaxed into Alec’s hold on him. “It is.”

“You have time to have breakfast with me?”

“I always have time for you, Alexander.”

Alec tightened his hold on Magnus, nearly crushing all of the oxygen out of Magnus’ lungs, but even if he’d had the lung capacity he wouldn’t have protested.

Then Alec was urging Magnus onto his back as Alec propped himself over Magnus. Alec’s lips pulled into a slow smile. “Hey.”

“You said that already,” Magnus noted.

“I know, but I was still half-asleep. Wasn’t sure if I was dreaming.”

“So you’re saying I make a regular appearance in your dreams?”

“You are way too witty for it being….”—Alec glanced at the clock—“Shit. It’s not even six am.”

“A fact I am well aware of. Both the time _and_ the fact that you haven’t kissed me yet.”

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth.”

Magnus smirked. “Lucky for you, I know exactly where your mouth was last night.”

A delicate blush fell over Alec’s cheeks and he leaned down to kiss Magnus—once, and with just a hint of open lips—that made Magnus’ head spin in a lovely way. The lingering hurt of spending last night alone dispersed a bit more.

“Not that I’m complaining, at all,” Alec said, “but how did you get in here?”

“Your partner in crime tracked me down and made me an offer I couldn’t have denied. He’s in the shower—”

Magnus’ reply was cut short by a screeching thump of music.

“What the hell is that?” Alec groaned, falling back to the bed and covering his head with the duvet.

Magnus turned his head and found Alec’s cell—charging on the hotel nightstand. Magnus broke out into a guffaw when he realized the song was _GDFR_ and Alec’s phone was definitely the source. “Your cell. This is your ringtone?”

“What? No,” Alec grumbled, peeking his head and one hand out of the covers. “Give it to me.”

By the time Magnus had handed it over the music had stopped.

Alec took the phone and jabbed at the screen. “That was Jace calling. What the fuck?”

Magnus held back a laugh this time. Barely. “Are you quite sure your phone is secure?”

“My fucking ringtone is set to this song,” Alec griped, then must have realized what Magnus had just said, because his eyes went wide. “Jace.”

“Apparently, you need to change your passcode to something other than a quite uncommon last name.”

A brilliant red raised on Alec’s cheeks, and the song started again. Alec picked up the call on speakerphone. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m coming out of the bathroom in two minutes,” Jace said on the other end of the line. “Stop whatever you’re doing.”

“Magnus is still fully clothed.”

“That doesn’t change anything about my request.”

Alec huffed. “We were just talking about ordering breakfast, Jace.”

“Order me the usual, then.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Alec disconnected the call and sighed.

Alec was endearingly annoyed, and Jace’s song choice had been flawlessly appropriate. Magnus was thoroughly enjoying the start to his day, despite the early hour.

Magnus gestured to the red mark at the base of Alec’s throat. “So…. It’s going down for real?”

But Alec wasn’t looking at him. His brow was scrunched together in concentration as he punctuated jabs of his finger to the screen with more sighs.

“Shit. I’m too tired to decide what to change this to.” Alec handed his cell to Magnus. “Help, please.”

Magnus resisted the urge to make as equally memorable of a song choice, and set Alec’s ringer to the default instead—noting with complete glee that Alec’s background picture was of he, Max, and Alec at the bar the night after the Angels’ first round win.

“There you go,” Magnus said, setting Alec’s cell on the nightstand again. “You’ve been de-Flo Rida-fied.”

Alec chuckled then. “Thank you. Now, what do you want?”

“You.”

Alec gave a lop-sided smile. “For breakfast, Magnus.”

Magnus skimmed his hand down Alec’s side. “Sausage? But I suppose that’s not on your game day diet until shower time.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “I’m getting a vegetarian omelet.”

“Make it two.”

Alec slid out of bed and crossed the room to the hotel phone. Magnus leered at the view of Alec in his boxer briefs—hand on one hip, the other holding the phone, his biceps bulging, as he spoke to the kitchen in a morning rough voice that had all of Magnus’ nerves on high alert in an instant.

Jace experimentally poked his head out the bathroom door, and immediately caught where Magnus’ gaze was. “Shit. I knew I didn’t stay in there long enough.”

Magnus gave him an overly dramatic eye roll, and got out of Alec’s bed. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom? I was a bit rushed this morning.”

“All yours.”

He stole one more glance at Alec as he grabbed his suitcase. While he could appreciate Alec’s physicality, Alec’s unguarded contentment at having Magnus here chased the rest of the hurt away.

This wouldn’t be an easy path for either of them—and it was inevitable that there was more pain to come—but his conversation with Jem had only solidified one thing.

Alec was most definitely worth fighting for.

 

****

 

Alec pulled on his sweatpants and glanced at the bathroom door to make sure it was still closed before facing Jace. “Thank you.”

Jace pointed an accusing finger at him. “You called me an asshole.”

“Which you totally deserved,” Alec retorted. He opened up his texts and sent off a message to Rosa to let her know she and Carter didn’t need to pick Magnus up, then refocused on Jace. “I’m guessing since I didn’t already have that song on my phone that I’m also going to have a charge from iTunes on my credit card next month?”

“Yep,” Jace said with no shame. “You needed to expand your musical horizons, anyway.”

Alec took an Angels t-shirt out of his suitcase and pulled it on. “Sick of Linkin Park?”

“I’m beginning to think you have a thing for Chester Bennington.”

Alec shook his head. “Mike Shinoda.”

Jace snorted, dropping into the desk chair. “That makes so much sense.”

Magnus had said he had a preference for dark hair and soulful eyes. Despite Alec’s long ago dismissed crush on Jace, Alec’s preferences skewed in that direction too. He may not have liked Magnus when he’d first met him, but he’d still recognized how attractive he was.

Alec sat down on the end of Jace’s bed. “You know the first time I met Magnus I was at that cologne photo shoot—and I hated him so much that all I could think about was you on the blue line shooting pucks at his too-pretty face?”

“That’s fucked up, bro,” Jace replied.

Alec couldn’t argue that. “I was such an idiot.”

“You were going through a tough time,” Jace allowed.

“Still am.” Alec furrowed his brow. “It’s just…different now.”

He’d taken his support system for granted then. Been too detached from the world around him. Too detached from _himself_.

Accepting Magnus into his life had changed all of that.

Jace grabbed his cell off the desk and twisted it in his hands. “You and Magnus…. It’s good.”

“Is that a question?”

“Nope.”

Alec smiled. He didn’t need Jace’s approval, yet it meant everything to him. “Yeah. It is good.”

There was a knock on the door and Jace stood, cuffing Alec on the side of the head as he walked by. “Then I’ll help you not fuck it up.”

Alec scoffed as Jace let room service in.

Jace pushed the cart into the room and Alec stood to pull it the rest of the way inside. Jace signed off on the bill and flipped the security lock between the jamb and door, leaving the door cracked open. It was the same ritual every morning they were on the road. Jace wanted to make sure that everyone on the team knew they could come talk to him if they wanted to.

But to Alec, that open door always signaled the end of being able to say whatever he wanted to Jace.

Magnus may have been here, but from this point on Alec would be focused on hockey. He cracked his neck and flipped the coffee cups, pouring the steaming liquid into all three.

Black for Jace.

Black with sugar for him.

And that third cup, only three-quarters full so Alec could fit in all the cream and sugar Magnus loved.

“Breakfast is here, Magnus,” Jace said as he passed by the bathroom. He swiped his coffee cup off the cart and dropped into this seat again. “So tell me your thoughts on getting past Aldertree.”

There were three plates on the room service cart. Magnus was in his hotel room. And Jace was talking strategy just like it was any other morning before a game.

It wasn’t fully integrating the two halves of his life, but it was closer, at least.

Alec smiled and picked up his cup.

Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to see more than hints of what his future would look like.

 

****

 

Magnus checked over his eye makeup one more time, then zipped up his suitcase and headed into the room.

Jace was at the desk hunched over a plate, and Alec was seated at the end of Jace’s bed. Magnus sat down next to him and Alec pulled the cover off Magnus’ plate as he continued to talk to Jace about strategy for the game.

Alec didn’t make any overtly flirtatious moves, and Magnus respected the boundaries he was setting up. Both Alec and Jace drew him into the conversation, explaining slang or plays so Magnus wasn’t as nearly as lost as he would be otherwise. Magnus was content to let the leaders of the Angels start their day the way they saw fit. It was a glimpse into Alec’s daily life that most agents, and no fans, ever saw.

Just as they were finishing up breakfast, and Alec was refilling Magnus’ cup of coffee, there was a knock at the door.

“Door’s open,” Jace called out.

Coach Garroway pushed inside, dressed in head to toe Angels’ warmup gear—similar to what he’d been wearing the first time Magnus had shown up at the Angels’ arena.

“Coach, this is Magnus Bane,” Jace introduced, getting to his feet. “Alec’s agent and, as of later today, he’ll be mine too.”

Magnus stood to shake Garroway’s hand, and could feel Alec coming to stand next to him. “We met at the arena.”

Coach Garroway shifted on his feet. “Actually, you know Jocelyn Fray, right?”

That was a name Magnus hadn’t expected to hear today, let alone coming from the mouth of a professional hockey coach. He glanced at Alec before answering. Alec looked as surprised as him. “I do. I assume from your intonation that you do as well.”

“We actually met. I mean you and I— Quite a few years ago now, at one of Jocelyn’s first shows.”

“My apologies for not remembering. Are you a friend of hers?”

Garroway frowned. “It’s— No.” He abruptly turned on his heel. “I need you both in the lobby in five. We’re heading over to the practice rink first. Good to see you again, Magnus.”

“Likewise.”

Jace threw his napkin on the tray and grabbed his duffel. “I’ll meet you downstairs, Alec. Good luck today, Magnus.”

“I don’t need it,” Magnus said with complete confidence.

Jace clapped him on the back. “I know you don’t.”

Once the door was shut behind Jace, Magnus turned and pulled Alec into his arms, kissing him softly.

“I’ll see you Friday night, right?” Alec asked.

Magnus nodded. He would be counting down the hours. “I’ll leave the door open for you.”

 

****

 

Alec took a swig of water and picked up his cell, taking a break from practice while Kyle spent some time in the net. Magnus’ flight had left an hour ago and he wouldn’t be back on the ground for another three hours or so, but Alec had seen notifications popping up on his lock screen from where his bag was behind the bench.

It had been days since he’d last checked in on the Puck Me group, but apparently almost everyone was online right now, the stream of notifications continuing to light up his screen. Curiosity got the better of him and Alec opened the app to catch up. He scrolled through the older messages and found where the discussion had started just a few minutes ago.

 

 _frayedknot_ : So who else just became one of Alec’s three hundred thousand Twitter followers?

 _lightwoodsaves_ : I can’t believe Alec stole my username

 _thislightwoodscores_ : *I* stole your username, Max. He needed something more marketable

 _lightwoodsaves_ : You owe me royalties!

 _thislightwoodscores_ : I’ll pay you in beer

 _lightwoodsaves_ : Done

 _badumtess_ : Alec, you on? I have rehearsals tonight so I can’t go see a play, but I’ll technically be on Broadway. I’m contemplating whether that’s enough or if I should get Will and Jem tickets to a show

 

He didn’t have any comment on his apparent rabid Twitter following, but Tessa deserved an answer.

 

 _mustacheyouaquestion_ : I’m here. You know this better than I do. I trust whatever you decide

 

Alec watched as discussion picked up, arguing both points and making plans for the night. Then….

 

 _badumtess_ : Wait, where’s Magnus in all of this? He always has opinions

 

“Lightwood, back out here in five,” Coach called from the other side of the ice.

Alec tipped up his chin to acknowledge his coach and typed out a quick reply.

 

 _mustacheyouaquestion_ : He’s on a plane

 _frayedknot_ : What? He should already be in LA…

 

_Shit._

 

 _badumtess_ : He was at the airport when I talked to him yesterday. About to board his flight

 _frayedknot_ : I haven’t talked to him since then either. Alec, where is he?

 

Alec stared at his screen, trying to figure out how to answer that.

 

 _frayedknot_ : You know that it shows that you’re still online, right Alec?

 _lightwoodsaves_ : Oh shit. Technology fail, big brother

 

_Fuck._

 

 _thislightwoodscores_ : I’m calling you now, Alec

 _hanyolo_ : Heads up. Izzy has her Black Widow stilettos on today

 

Alec clicked his screen off and threw his phone into his bag. He’d eventually have to answer to Izzy, but it didn’t matter if he talked to her now or later. He was _screwed_.

Alec felt a slow grin pulling at his lips at the thought. He _was_ screwed. Had been screwed. Looked forward to much more screwing in the future.

It didn’t matter how much Izzy yelled at him. Asking Magnus to come here had been exactly what he needed. Izzy was going to have to find some way to deal with the reality that he and Magnus were together.

Because that wasn’t changing anytime soon.

 

****

 

Magnus sat in the lobby of Talented Entertainers & Athletes and tried not to look as uncomfortable as he was. Upon landing in LA, he’d received a text from Alec warning him that Izzy knew he’d been in Pittsburgh. And while he didn’t expect repercussions from that development that he couldn’t manage, it had left him on edge. Waiting a rude, inordinate amount of time to be escorted up to Jace’s agent’s office wasn’t helping.

He’d spent four hours in a torturous plane seat in coach because of his last-minute ticket change, one hour in another suspect Prius Uber with a ride as bone-jarring as a horse carriage, and now thirty minutes on a white plastic bench that he supposed was meant to complement their modern décor, but just made his ass hurt.

What the hell kind of name was Talented Entertainers & Athletes, anyway? Did they call themselves TEA? Or perhaps a very hipster TE&A with the ampersand freely flowing through the letters to showcase their creativity?

No wonder Jace wanted to leave this agency.

Magnus sniffed. Sneered. Crossed his legs and uncrossed them. Was about to storm the front desk and demand to be seen when a man with the overly orange skin of a spray tan approached him, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Magnus Bane?”

Magnus had done his homework, this was definitely not Jace’s agent. “I am Magnus Bane.”

“I’m Ronald, TE&A’s legal counsel.” Ronald handed over his business card—complete with unnecessarily flowery punctuation—and gestured across the lobby. “Sorry to keep you waiting for so long. Let’s talk in a conference room.”

Magnus followed Ronald, his frustration sliding into wariness when they passed by the front desk and the people darting through the sea of cubicles were a frazzled mess.

Ronald waved him into a room and closed the door behind them, puffing into a chair.

Magnus hadn’t been invited to sit, but Ronald hadn’t offered a hand to shake either. Apparently their welcome committee needed a few lessons in grace and manners. Magnus twirled around the chair across from Ronald and took a seat anyway.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Ronald said, swiping his sleeve across his upper lip. “Jeremiah is no longer with the agency.”

Well, that put the disarray outside is slightly more cogent context. Occasionally agencies went through a mass turnover, especially if the agency was making a shift in priorities. “I assume this wasn’t a planned departure.”

Ronald sat back and sighed. “We were hoping this…scandal wasn’t going to hit the press, but it showed up on TMZ this morning. Now it’s being broadcast all over that he’d been having an affair with one of his married clients.”

Magnus blanched. Swallowed around the immediate lump in his throat.

“That is…unfortunate,” he scratched out.

Two days ago there could have been allegations leveled against Magnus for doing nearly the same thing with Alec—and he would’ve been able to deny them. He could’ve sat across from Imogen and looked her in the eye as he dispelled all rumor with the truth.

Now he couldn’t.

Just how much of a scandal was TE&A facing with this?

“Unfortunate?” Ronald blew out a gust of air as he chortled. “This is a _clusterfuck_.”

Magnus’ heart thumped, hands going cold and damp.

“Anyway,” Ronald continued, unaware of Magnus’ turmoil, “from what I know from his assistant, you were negotiating a move for Jace Wayland. I reviewed Mr. Wayland’s contract and there wasn’t anything we could do to keep him if he didn’t want to stay with us before this. But now? Our reputation is about to take a big hit. I’m assuming you came prepared to offer us something for the switch.”

Magnus struggled to adjust his thought process back to the reason for the meeting. He couldn’t think about Alec right now, he was here for Jace.

Jace Wayland. Alec’s best friend. A man who’d shown up at his door this morning to secret Magnus to their hotel because Magnus and Alec…. Alec wasn’t married, and yet, by the strict definition of the word, _they_ were having an affair.

“I did,” Magnus finally managed, reaching with shaking hands for the file of papers he’d brought with him.

But Ronald waved them away. “I’ll accept whatever it is. We’ve got enough to worry about with current clients. This is going to be a public relations mess. I’m sorry you had to fly all the way out here for nothing.”

Magnus pushed the file across the table, ready to get this meeting over with. He had to get out of here. “If you can review and sign these documents for me, this trip will have been worth it.”

His head was swimming. Was this really happening?

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Ronald opened the file, scanning over the first few pages. “I get the feeling this won’t be the last contract I’m signing over the next few days. A city full of fucking beautiful people, and this guy had to stick his dick in the wrong one.”

Magnus cringed at the man’s crudeness. He tried to swallow down the question sitting like a lump in his throat, but it was past his lips before he could stop it. “Was it a man or a woman? His client?”

“Woman, thank god. The entertainment industry may be able to handle a gay scandal, but sports?” Ronald punctuated his exasperation with a rather repulsive snort.

“Too much testosterone,” Magnus replied without thought. His voice sounded like it had come from someone else’s lips. It was too calm. Too detached.

“Politics and sports—the last safe havens for straight, white men in power.” Ronald surveyed Magnus. “No offense.”

A flood of adrenaline shot through Magnus’ veins. Anger took hold and snapped him back to full awareness. Magnus bristled. “Could I see those papers again?”

Ronald slid the file back to him and Magnus opened it, shredding each page one by one—the sound of each tear more satisfying than the last.

“What are you doing?” Ronald blubbered.

“You said it yourself,” Magnus callously bit out. “There’s nothing you can do to keep Jace Wayland with your agency. We won’t be paying you anything for the transfer.”

“But…. We had a gentleman’s agreement!”

Magnus stood, leaving the shredded papers on the table. “I believe it takes two gentlemen to make such a pact. I’ll see myself out.”

Magnus was trembling by the time he hit the lobby, barely able to keep his feet moving forward as he pushed through the doors and into the scorching sun and smog. He stumbled his way to a coffee shop on the corner and dropped onto one of the outdoor chairs, pulling out his phone. It took only one Google search for Magnus’ screen to be filled with articles.

Jace’s former agents’ career was over. TE&A was being slammed in the trade press. The female tennis star had already pulled out of her next tournament citing health reasons, and lost two of her major endorsements due to the morality clause….

This wasn’t like he and Alec, Magnus tried to convince himself. The woman was married. Everything he read pointed to it truly being an illicit affair and not a relationship.

But he and Alec weren’t exactly in any kind of formalized relationship, either.

And a gay man at the top of his sport being outed?

He’d intellectually known the ramifications of he and Alec becoming involved with each other. Had discussed the worst case scenario with Isabelle. With Alec himself. But seeing the destruction unfolding in front of him in real-time was…terrifying.

No, this scenario wasn’t anything like he and Alec.

If they were discovered, the fallout would be exponentially worse.

 

****

 

_Night of Game Three_

_(Series tally - tied at once game each)_

 

Magnus was on a plane heading back to New York, so their usual pre-game texts had been short and well before the game started. None of his family was in the arena. Yet Alec took to the ice with a smile on his lips when his game face was usually a grimace.

Santiago had had the honor of leading the team onto the ice tonight, but it was a crapshoot who it would be for the next game, because Garroway was sporting what could only be called a perma-grin.

The first line matched the furious pace of the Penguins and upped the ante by making their offensive push look almost effortless. All of the Angels had a lightness to their play tonight that reminded Alec of winter pick-up games on frozen ponds. Of the sheer, adrenaline-powered joy of hitting the ice with your best friends after school.

With less than a minute left in the second period, Jace skated past him, dimples in full effect. “Going for another shutout, huh?”

Alec couldn’t even chastise Jace for saying that out loud—the scoreboard spoke for itself. The Angels were up three to zero with one period left to play.

Jace winked at him. “You look like you took a load off last night.”

Alec chuckled and shook his head.

He’d gotten an earful from Izzy for Magnus flying into town, and Jace was giving him shit every chance he got, but Alec didn’t care.

He was playing flawlessly tonight, and maybe, just maybe, that had something to do with Magnus Bane.

 

****

 

Magnus reclined in his first class seat and tried to get comfortable.

He used plane flights as an opportunity to unplug. Most of the flights he took now offered wi-fi, but he left even his Kindle at home, favoring the company of a book in his hands or music in his ears.

His phone always remained on airplane mode when he was in the air. It was a line he drew to disconnect from the unrelenting demands of his job. To maintain his sanity. But tonight….

Tonight, he was in the air while Alec was playing.

He shut down the voice in the back of his head that told him there were other reasons he wanted to be online besides the game—that it was the worst of ideas to open that door—and connected to the wi-fi.

He checked on the score of the game, running through the stats and watching clips of major plays—which buffered more than they actually played due to the slow connection. Satisfied that the Angels had this game in hand, Magnus’ finger hovered over the button to reactivate airplane mode. Instead, he opened up his browser and refreshed the search from earlier in the day.

It had only been a few hours since he’d left TE&A’s headquarters, and the news had gotten significantly worse.

All of the firm’s agents were now being scrutinized, with rumors swirling about multiple ethics violations at the highest levels. Of a CEO who was aware of the transgressions and had attempted to cover them up. The agency was imploding. Self-destructing. If TE&A folded because of this, it would mean the loss of hundreds of jobs, and severe harm to every one of their clients, not just the one embroiled in this scandal.

All because—as Ronald had so vulgarly stated—an agent had stuck his dick in the wrong person.

Magnus winced even as those words flitted through his head.

Alec wasn’t wrong. What Magnus felt for Alec wasn’t wrong. He’d never experienced something that felt so right.

But not everyone would see it that way.

Magnus scrolled through his texts, bypassing the thread with Alec, and opened up his last message to Imogen—sent just before he’d met Alec at the Conservatory. It had been twenty-four hours since that text and Magnus’ world had shifted irreparably.

 _On the plane home_ , he typed. _Jace is now part of IE. I rescinded our offer of a percentage of Jace’s next contract_

Imogen’s reply came through within a minute. _Good. I already have a team working on outreach to TE &A’s other clients who may be looking for new representation._

Imogen was a shark, and there was the distinct taste of blood in the water.

Magnus’ stomach rolled. He typed out the response that he knew was expected. _What can I do to help?_

 _I’ll call you tomorrow_ , she responded.

Magnus waited for another message to come through. Dread slinking across his skin, standing the hair of his arms on end.

Even if she didn’t know where he’d been last night, or how he’d spent his time, Imogen was well aware that there was the possibility of a relationship with Alec. And while she’d offered her support, she wouldn’t allow her company to crumble for one man. Or one client.

That she wasn’t giving him another assignment—when she’d been so focused on him bringing new clients to IE—was troubling.

No other messages came through.

Magnus closed his eyes and slumped into his seat.

He’d thought that the day Sebastian had threatened Alec had been a crossroads, but it had been merely a warning sign of the danger ahead.

All of the choices he’d made up to this point had led him closer to Alec, yet at odds with his promise never to break Alec’s trust—to protect him. He couldn’t pretend anymore that those two tracks were, or ever would be, the same path.

The roads he was so precipitously traversing were diverging. He was approaching the point where he’d have to commit to one or the other—a decision to make. No matter which scenario he envisioned, he only saw pain.

He didn’t know which path he’d choose.

 

****

 

“Ready to admit I was right, bro?” Jace said with a triumphant smile when the final buzzer sounded on a four to zero win.

“Nope,” Alec taunted. He flipped up the cage on his mask and skated for the tunnel with Jace at his side.

Jace smirked, then brought them to a stop, waiting for the rest of the team to flow around them and to the locker room. “I sense a new superstition in the making.”

Alec took a minute to look around the arena. The fans were exiting in a frustrated hush, but Alec was hyped. “I’m not the only one who has a say in that.”

Jace knocked his helmet against Alec’s mask, cupping him on the back of the neck. “Seriously? I don’t think Magnus is going to have any issues with it.”

Alec couldn’t restrain his grin. “We’ll see.”

The Angels were now ahead in the series by one game.

If spending time with Magnus helped him play this well, then date night was about to become his new favorite superstition.

 

****

 

Magnus opened the door to his apartment and mustered as much of a smile as he could for Catarina. “Good evening, Cat and cat.”

Chairman was on his back, nestled between Catarina’s legs as she scratched his belly. “No matter how many times I hear it, that joke still isn’t witty, Magnus.”

Magnus huffed and pushed his suitcase in the general direction of his bedroom. He’d worry about unpacking later. Or being any kind of a responsible adult at all. Right now, he needed a shower. Comfortable pants. And a drink. But not necessarily in that order.

“How much did you spoil him this time?” Magnus asked over his shoulder as he went for the bar.

“The Chairman loves sea bass,” Catarina cooed.

Magnus scoffed. Filled a glass with scotch. “Of course he does.”

Catarina was quiet for a moment, then, “I think Alec left you present when he was staying here.”

Magnus steadied himself with a hand on the counter, laying his forehead against the cabinet. He’d spent the last four hours trying not to think of Alec, and had therefore spent the last four hours thinking solely about Alec. The Angels had won their game. Alec had his second shutout in a row, his third of the post-season. A picture from Jace had been the first thing to pop up on Magnus’ phone when he’d arrived in New York.

Alec with his arm around Jace’s shoulder. His smile stretched wide, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His dress shirt pulling away just enough to give a hint of the red mark at his throat.

 _Making our agent’s job easy_ , the text below it read.

He heard Catarina moving around behind him. “Magnus?”

Magnus answered the question she hadn’t really asked. “It’s been a particularly taxing week.”

He brought the glass to his lips, but the biting scent of alcohol made his stomach roll even more. He wouldn’t find his answer in a glass, no matter how much he wanted to.

Magnus dumped the contents into the sink and joined Catarina at the island. Alec’s sweatshirt was neatly folded atop the granite, an envelope lying on top.

Magnus studiously ignored the reminder of Alec’s presence in his apartment. “Anything else of note I missed?”

“Not really. Here’s your mail and your newspaper.” Catarina laughed softly. “I didn’t know anyone still read actual newspapers.”

Magnus turned the paper over in his hands. It was bound with a red rubber band, with the Post’s signature bold type headline emblazoned across the front.

“I didn’t either,” Magnus replied. “I subscribe to the online edition, not a physical paper.”

“Well, this was in front of your door when I got here tonight.”

Magnus frowned and unrolled the paper, finding a bright yellow sticky note embedded between the pages. He flipped to the marked page and froze when he saw the picture of Alec…. Outside Magnus’ apartment building.

 

_Between the Pipes in Brooklyn?_

 

 _There are rumors Alec Lightwood, the up-and-coming goaltender for the New York Blazing Angels, will soon be back on the market. He was spotted entering a Brooklyn apartment building the night before the Angels’ last home game, and didn’t leave until the morning. Alec arrived with Manhattan socialite and NBC lawyer Lydia Branwell at the Gallant Launch Event less than a week ago, but with Alec’s overnight relocation from Gramercy to Brooklyn, it looks like the stunning power couple may be on the outs_ ….

 

Magnus swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He quickly slumped onto the barstool before his knees gave out.

“What’s wrong?” Catarina asked quietly.

Magnus laid the paper out for Catarina to read and picked up his cell.

Magnus had expected his next conversation with Izzy would be stilted and slightly uncomfortable, but not…this.

“Magnus. Thank fuck,” Izzy answered. “I couldn’t remember when you landed.”

Magnus ran his hand over his face. Watched Catarina’s features drop as she read. “Isabelle, please tell me this article in the Post was your doing.”

“No. It wasn’t. I’ve been scrambling since it came out, trying to pinpoint the source.”

“We both know who it was….” Magnus’ stomach churned. Lurched. “Sebastian is making his play.”

Izzy sighed. “I think you’re right. The story seems to be contained to only the Post for now, but I’m on high alert.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow so we can regroup, Isabelle.”

“Get some sleep.”

Magnus clicked off the call and dropped his cell to the counter.

There was no way he’d sleep tonight.

Catarina closed the newspaper and dumped it into the recycling. “Do you want to talk about what’s going on?”

Magnus’ throat constricted. “No.”

Magnus stared at Alec’s sweatshirt on the counter. The sweatshirt he’d asked Alec to wear so it would smell like him again. Everything had been so much easier only days ago. An innuendo, a witty retort. Harmless flirtation.

Magnus pulled the sweatshirt closer.

“Magnus,” Catarina warned, “you have that look in your eyes. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Magnus picked up the envelope, opening the note from Alec.

 

_I did some pushups in this. Hope it helps._

_\- Alec_

By all accounts, that note should have left him with a lovesick grin on his face. Blissful. But all he could think about was Alec asleep in a Pittsburgh hotel room, wrapped up in a duvet. Completely at peace. His eyes opening to take in Magnus, a slow smile stretching across his face.

All he was doing was bringing harm to Alec.

Magnus lifted his eyes to Catarina. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m going to protect him, Cat. Whatever that takes.”

Catarina’s brow furrowed. “And what about you?”

Magnus didn’t have an answer for that yet. “Thank you for watching over the Chairman.”

Catarina shook her head, locs swinging. He could tell there was more she wanted to say to him, but she held her ground for only a moment longer, then swept around the kitchen island and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m here when you need me. Take care of yourself, Magnus.”

The door latched behind Catarina, then the sound of her turning her key in the lock, shutting him inside alone.

He left the sweatshirt on the counter and trudged into his bedroom, falling onto his bed as sheer exhaustion overtook him. Magnus realized his mistake seconds too late.

His sheets smelled like Alec.

Magnus curled up, and clamped his eyes shut, trying to push back the pressure building behind his eyeballs.

He was failing Alec at every turn, how was he possibly supposed to take care of himself?

 

****

 

_Night of Game Four_

_(Series tally - Angels lead two games to one)_

 

Alec sat on the bench in the visitor’s locker room, his knee bouncing as he scrolled through his cell before getting fully dressed.

He’d received the usual good luck texts from Clary and Simon—complete with pictures and absurd messages. Max’s text was subdued, and the only one he’d sent Alec today at all. He’d expected that from Izzy—and it was exactly what he’d gotten from her too—since she still seemed to be pissed about Alec asking Magnus to come to Pittsburgh.

The relative silence of Alec’s cell phone was eating at him.

Magnus had been busy all day, wrapped up in phone calls and contract negotiations, so they’d only texted each other a few times, and he hadn’t talked to Magnus at all. There had been days like this before with both of them consumed by work, but coming on the heels of the night they’d spent together….

Alec couldn’t help but be worried.

He grimaced and looked up at Jace. “Have you talked to Magnus?”

Jace pulled his jersey off the hanger and yanked it over his head. Eyes not meeting Alec’s. “He texted me to say my new contract with IE will be ready to sign next week.”

Alec scratched at his beard. Tried to put a name to the tightness growing in his chest “That’s good.”

“What? He didn’t send a pre-game message to you?”

That wasn’t the problem. “No, he did. He always does.”

“Okay. So?” Jace asked, annoyance lacing his tone.

Alec opened up the string of messages with Magnus and handed his phone to Jace. He didn’t need to see the text to have all six words memorized— _You’ll be brilliant in goal tonight_

Jace squinted at the screen, then raised a dubious eye at Alec. “What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s not”—Alec struggled to think of the right word—“ _Magnus_.”

“He’s just busy, bro,” Jace said, tossing the phone back to Alec.

Alec twisted his cell in his hands. “I guess.”

Jace started to turn away, then stopped, running both his hands through his hair. “Shit. Fuck. I wasn’t going to do this—” Jace stood hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Follow me.”

Alec began to protest but Jace shut that down quick with a look.

“Just…. Follow me.”

Alec hiked up his sleeves, staying by Jace’s side as they tracked down the hallway and into one of the empty meeting rooms. Alec closed the door carefully behind them.

Jace fisted his hand, and stalked away from Alec, his lips drawn thin.

Alec’s stomach clenched. “What the fuck is going on, Jace?”

Jace faced Alec and crossed his arms. “I knew you wouldn’t catch this news unless someone told it to you. I was hoping to hold onto it for, well, forever, quite honestly. My old agent was fired—for having an affair with one of his clients, a pro tennis player. I saw it on ESPN this morning before you woke up and called Magnus. Apparently, Magnus was in the building yesterday when it was hitting the press.”

Alec winced.

_Shit._

He’d wondered why Jace had kept the TV off all morning, but he’d thought everything had been fine. They were riding the high from the win the night before. They’d had breakfast and discussed strategy. Jace had been glued to his phone more than usual, but Alec had figured that had to do with whatever was going on with him and Lydia….

But he’d been waiting to hear from Magnus.

“You talked to him?” Alec scratched out.

“I’ve been texting with Izzy and Magnus all day. Magnus is doing everything he can to protect you. It’s his job”—Jace arched an eyebrow—“what you pay him for, remember? Same with Izzy. They’ve got your back.”

Alec saw red immediately. “You think I’m worried about _me_?”

“You should be, Alec. This woman’s career is already taking a huge hit.” The volume of Jace’s voice increased with each word. “And she’s not _gay_.”

Alec ground his teeth together. “Why didn’t Magnus tell me this?”

Jace pointed a finger at him. “Are you fucking serious? You’re freaked right now, Alec. I know you. I can see that you’re already deciding what you think you did wrong, or what you should have done different. None of us said anything to you because all you should be thinking about is tonight’s game. The most useful thing you can do right now is to be fucking impenetrable on the ice.”

Alec clenched his jaw and sneered. “Why? Because nothing is more important than hockey, right?”

Jace’s eyes hardened as he stepped up to Alec. “Because all of us think that nothing is more important than _you_ , you asshole.”

_Fuck._

Alec set his hands on his hips and ran a hand through his hair.

He took a step back from Jace, sucking in a ragged breath. “Sorry.”

Jace’s features immediately softened. “And I’m sorry you had to hear this right before the game. But they’ve got this under control. Magnus isn’t as ‘Magnus’ today because he’s using his connections and brain power to take care of you, his client, right now.”

The numb spot in Alec’s hand flared, the edges of where he still had sensation sparking. Alec shook out his hand and put his fingers to his bracelet instead of working at that spot.

Maybe he should’ve been worried about himself, but all he could think about was how Magnus was handling this.

Alec looked to Jace. “Is he okay?”

“How the hell would I know?” Jace tipped his chin up, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “I need a dictionary app to keep up with him most days.”

Alec chuffed.

“It doesn’t matter if he is or isn’t okay,” Jace contended. “Let him deal with this as a professional right now, and not as your boyfriend.”

Alec startled at the word. “He’s not—”

Jace cut him off with an indignant snort. “Don’t even try. You trust him, right?”

That wasn’t a question. “Of course I do.”

“Then let him do his job. This is what you signed up for, bro. If you want him as your agent you’re going to have to learn how to draw a line between the office and bedroom. All you need to do is not suck in the net tonight. It’s the one thing Magnus said he needs from you to make his job easier.”

“He didn’t say that to you,” Alec argued.

“Whatever,” Jace dismissed. “Close enough.”

It reminded him of Clary insisting that Alec had been paraphrasing what Magnus had said to him after the negotiation with Gallant. Now he knew Magnus well enough that he could hear the way Magnus would say something in his head.

It wasn’t just Magnus’ word choice that he recognized, though—he knew _Magnus_. Enough to understand that Jace was right. Magnus wasn’t being his usual flirtatious self because he was busy being the hyper-intelligent, hard-nosed agent Alec knew he also was. The very, very least Alec could do to help him was not buckle under the pressure.

“Okay.” Alec released a huge breath. Locked eyes with Jace. “All I need to do is focus on the game. They’re taking care of the rest.”

Jace nodded. “Exactly.”

He was going into tonight with a two shutout streak and the Penguins would be coming at him just as hard as they had for the last three games.

After the game ended, they’d be flying back to New York, and he already had plans to go to Magnus’ loft. He could be Magnus’ boyfriend when he got to New York, and not his client.

But before that, both he and Magnus had their own jobs to do. Regardless of how Magnus had worded it, the one thing he’d asked for was for Alec to be perfect in the net.

Alec swallowed thickly.

He’d keep _every_ puck out of the net tonight.

 

****

 

Magnus stared at his cell.

His last text to Alec was…uninspired. Withdrawn. But he couldn’t leave that pre-game ritual unfulfilled.

The minutes were ticking by before the game started, and Magnus hadn’t received a reply. Alec always replied before games since the first time he’d broken his superstition for Magnus.

But before he could overthink why he hadn’t heard from Alec—and let the idea take hold that maybe it was better this way—there was a knock at his door.

He’d already begged out of going out to the bar with Simon, Clary, and Max—citing he had work he had to catch up on from traveling. He knew Izzy was still at her office, both of them had been in constant communication today. So he had no idea who could be waiting for him on the other side of that door.

With any luck, it would be Sebastian Morgenstern so he could rip out his throat. He hadn’t done his nails today, and blood red was a strikingly appropriate color for his current mood.

But it was a hoodie-adorned Lightwood who Magnus found on the other side.

Magnus retracted his metaphorical nails, but only partially. He wasn’t up for playing who-can-spit-or-swallow-the-most-double-entendres tonight.

Magnus crossed his arms and leaned against the jamb. “You Lightwoods have a habit of showing up at my door unannounced.”

Max didn’t appear to be deterred by Magnus’ unwelcoming greeting. “Figured since you’ve been talking to Izzy all day that I’d be your Lightwood fix for the night.” Max shrugged. “Plus, I had to meet my new neighbor.”

Magnus quirked a very inquisitive eyebrow at that.

Max held up a set of keys. “I just rented the apartment next to yours.”

It took Magnus seconds to piece together what Max was telling him. “Tessa told you about the correlation between where Alexander spends the night before home games and winning.”

Max placed a hand on the jamb, leaning in to Magnus. “How do you think Tessa knew what nights Alec had spent here?”

It hadn’t crossed his mind, but it should have. Yet another detail Magnus hadn’t paid enough attention to that had brought an unsolicited surprise.

Magnus stuffed that failure into his bursting well of badly repressed self-recrimination. He held his ground against the Lightwood that was in his personal space—it was good practice for later that night.

“You don’t care about Alec’s superstitions,” Magnus said pointedly, surveying Max’s well-worn Angels hoodie.

“I care about everything that matters to Alec,” Max stated, as if it wasn’t the most vulnerable and revealing of declarations. He brushed past Magnus and into the apartment. “So, what do you have to drink?”

Max plopped down on a barstool, removing his shoes.

Magnus narrowed his eyes at Max making himself at home. “Don’t you have drinks at your new place?”

“Depends. You have a house warming present for me?”

Magnus slammed the door behind him, his frustration amping up. “If it’s that easy to buy you off, then you can take my whole bar with you now. I’d prefer to be alone tonight.”

Max chuckled, the carefree sound grating at Magnus’ nerves. “Yep. That’s what I figured. Which is exactly why I’m here.”

“Well then come on in, Max,” Magnus said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Please, take off your shoes and get comfortable.”

Max clapped Magnus on the back as he passed by, heading for the couch. “Thanks, neighbor.”

Max sank into the cushions, shimmying his ass until it appeared he’d found just the right groove. Magnus glared at him. He wanted to throw him out, steal the keys for the apartment next door, and force Max to abandon this last ditch effort that would only make their lives more complicated.

He couldn’t have Max here while he was trying to figure out how he was going to handle Alec arriving in New York tonight.

Magnus sighed.

Max wasn’t the right target for his anger or frustration at all. Having Max here…. It made Magnus vulnerable. Weak. He cared for all of the Lightwood siblings, not just Alec.

“Max—” he began.

“Look,” Max cut him off. “I know you don’t have any brothers or sisters, but this is what family does when times get tough. I don’t give a shit if we just watch the game in silence. I heard you say you want to be alone, but that’s not going to happen—because both of us know that’s not what you really need. So deal with it.”

 _Family_ ….

That pressure that he hadn’t released last night surged up against his eyes again.

Apparently Max wasn’t going anywhere.

And maybe Magnus didn’t want him to.

Magnus swiped at his eyes, and spun around, heading for the refrigerator. He extracted two bottles of beer that Clary had left after the last game, and set them on the counter to grab the bottle opener when he saw that he’d received a new text. Magnus’ heart tripped up with the name ‘Alexander’ lighting up the screen. And below that beautiful name a simple, hopeful three word reply to Magnus’ text about playing brilliantly in goal _—I got this_

Magnus’ stomach sank.

 _You do_ , he typed back and hit send.

His finger hovered over the keyboard. He shouldn’t be saying more than he had to, but…. _Please be careful out there_

He hit send.

_I will :)_

It was almost impossible for Magnus to ignore the ache in his chest, but he needed to find a way.

He popped the bottles open, balanced them and his cell in his hands, and sat down next to Max. Max accepted the bottle with a quiet thanks and faced the TV, not saying anything more.

On the screen, the overhead arena lights had gone dark in Pittsburgh, spotlights of red and gold circled over the sold-out crowd, and fireworks fell from the scoreboard. The goal horn sounded, then music thundered out of the speakers as the Penguins took to the ice. But Magnus didn’t care to see any of their intro to rile up the fans, his eyes were fixated on the tunnel where the visiting team would emerge.

Alec was the first onto the ice for the Angels, and the sight of him sent chills down Magnus’ spine.

Alec immediately headed for the goal. Leaning down to tap the camera in the back of the net, then rotating around to dig his skates into the ice.

Magnus waited for Max to get to his feet, but Max settled his beer on his chest and didn’t move. It was the first time he hadn’t seen Max do his imitation of Alec’s pre-game crease preparation.

Magnus turned to Max to ask why, but Max was already shaking his head. “Izzy’s not here. Doesn’t count.”

Magnus didn’t have the energy or the inclination to argue.

 

****

 

The Penguins took to the ice with the same speed they’d displayed in the last game. An intensity once again matched by the Angels from the second the puck dropped.

Alec’s first save came within seconds, Alec whipping his mitt up, plucking the puck out of the air.

The second save less than a minute later on a wrist shot that Alec could feel through his gear.

The third on the heels of a drop pass that should’ve been picked up by an Angels’ defender.

Alec lost count of how many pucks he stopped after that.

The Angels’ defense couldn’t contain the Penguins, and the Angels’ offense gave up the puck on turnover after turnover, sending the Penguins into the defensive zone more often than in any of the last three games.

The first period was a relentless attack on goal.

As was the second period.

And Alec stopped every single shot.

His knee was aching as he skated for the tunnel at the end of the second period. His gear heavy on his shoulders as if he’d already played an entire game. Alec dropped onto the bench and Kadir was at his side immediately, a bag of ice in hand.

Alec didn’t even have the strength to lift his mask completely off his own head.

Jace tugged it off, setting it on the shelf behind Alec. He gave Alec a clipped nod.

“Our goalie is saving our _ass_ ,” Garroway boomed as he entered the locker room. He rotated around to look all the players in the eye. “He is standing on his head for you. You gonna play for him?”

“Yes, Coach,” a chorus of voices responded.

“Good. Then this is what we’re going to do.”

Alec finally swiped his mitt off and ran his fingers through his hair, only half-listening to his coach because, for once, there was very little Garroway had to say that would apply to him.

“One period to go,” Kadir said as he poked at Alec’s knee.

Alec huffed. He couldn’t think about how much time was left. He had to focus on what he’d already done. “Forty minutes down, and I kept every puck out.”

And that’s when Alec realized—for his entire career he’d been focused on not letting shots _in_ , instead of keeping them _out_.

It was like the difference between focusing on not crashing and driving safely to your destination. Instead of defending against what someone else was doing to him—on external threats—he was shifting his focus to what his own actions were.

Alec was no longer taking control of his life back, he was in control.

 

****

 

Alec always had this intensity to the way he surveyed the ice. His hazel eyes grew dark, emotionless, and harsh. But tonight there was a fire behind his eyes that spoke of more than cold calculation when he dropped into his stance at the beginning of the third period.

It was yet another side of Alec that Magnus had never seen in the net before.

Magnus furrowed his brow.

What was going on in Alec’s head?

“Did you speak to him before the game?” Magnus asked Max.

Max was picking at the label of his bottle, eyes narrowed at the screen. Did Max see what he saw?

“Just sent him the usual text.”

They’d said only a handful of sentences to each other through the first two periods and intermissions. Max had stayed true to his word and only spoke when spoken to.

Frankly, Magnus had grown tired of this standoff five minutes into it. Now hours into their stalemate, Max’s silence was tearing at Magnus’ last threads of patience.

Magnus twisted one of his rings between his fingers and faced Max, pulling his leg under him. “I surrender.”

Max scrunched his face up. “What?”

“You are my Waterloo,” he lamented.

“Are you quoting Abba lyrics at me? I thought you were bi, not gay.”

Magnus huffed. “I give in, Max. Let’s talk.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Max drew out. He tipped back his second beer and downed the contents he’d been nursing.

“You really rented the apartment next door?”

Max nodded. “It’s a way to get Alec here with a reasonable explanation. He was here the night before the game because you were out of town, and he was checking out the building for me. Protective older brother and all.”

That…made sense. “And how are you affording it? You already have your own place.”

“That”—Max pointed his empty bottle at Magnus with a quirked lip—“is my favorite part.”

There was only one source of funds Magnus could think of that would make Max appear as devious as he did. “You didn’t.”

“I haven’t used nearly as much money as my parents keep shoveling at me,” Max confirmed. “I’ve been using some of it to fund my work space, prototypes, and equipment, but this was more important.”

_I care about everything that matters to Alec._

Magnus had never witnessed a family that was so devoted to each other.

Alec had a loyal support system in place. He wasn’t alone.

Magnus took a sip of his warm beer. It wasn’t his drink of choice, but he wasn’t looking to get drunk tonight. Or even tipsy. He needed a clear head. “How much do you know about what’s happened in the last few days?”

“Pretty sure I could satisfy you in bed now,” Max said with cheeky self-confidence.

Magnus’ lips ticked up a fraction.

“Oh boy,” Max laughed. “May get a smile out of you yet tonight.”

“That night wasn’t what I was referring to,” Magnus clarified, guiding the conversation back to where it needed to go.

“Seems like it would be the most memorable part.”

Magnus shook his head, stood his ground. “It was a three-hour bubble.”

Max blew out a long breath and ran his fingers through his curls. “Yeah, a bubble in a needle factory.”

It was too apt of a description. Magnus could only nod.

“Izzy told me about the article,” Max admitted. “And I saw the news about that agency in California. Alec doesn’t know about either of those, right?”

Magnus shook his head.

Max’s eyebrows stitched together and his attention went back to the TV.

The first two periods had been brutal, and the third wasn’t shaping up to be any easier. Alec had already faced as many shots on goal as he usually would in a full game. And kept all of them out. Yet his stance never faltered.

Magnus didn’t understand how he was still standing, let alone deflecting shots as if he were fresh off out of the locker room.

Alec wasn’t giving up, and Magnus wouldn’t either.

“I’m protecting him, Max. That won’t change.”

Max pursed his lips. “There’s a hell of a lot that can change. It won’t always be like this for the two of you.”

“You know as well as I do, that just because we want something to be different, that doesn’t mean it will be.”

“I also know that nothing changes unless you put work into changing it….” Max chuffed. “Are we writing a new edition of Chicken Soup for the Soul and no one told me?”

Magnus wouldn’t be baited into jokes. If they were going to talk about this, then the truth had to be said. “You don’t know what it’s like, Max. I can’t be publicly acknowledged with him. I couldn’t even ride in a car with him back to his hotel because we’d be seen together.”

Max grabbed the remote and clicked the TV onto mute, then faced Magnus. “Have you seen any of his social media accounts?”

Magnus was caught off guard by what seemed like a non-sequitur. “I’m a contact for business inquiries in his bio, on accounts that Isabelle set up and manages. Alec doesn’t post anything to his own social media.”

Max scooped up his cell and scooted next to Magnus. He pulled up the tweets on Alec’s Twitter profile, swiping to get to the pictures and videos. “Tessa, Jace, and Alec at the Gallant event. Alec and all of us in the tunnel after the Devils’ series. Alec at the Gallant shoot in LA. Alec and Clary at Taki’s the night Simon’s band played.” Max leaned into Magnus’ side, tilting the screen so Magnus could see each photo clearly. “You’re right that Alec hasn’t posted these—but do you see what I’m seeing here? You happen to be in every single one of these pics.”

Magnus felt the intensity of Max’s gaze on him as he studied the pictures again. All he’d seen before was Alec—his eyes couldn’t escape the draw to drink all of Alec in given any opportunity. But now that Max had pointed it out…. Magnus was in the background of every photo.

Magnus scowled, meeting Max’s demanding scrutiny. “What’s your point, Max?”

“It’s not that you _happen_ to be there, is it? Alec himself asked you to be there for each of these events, right?”

“I’m his agent, Max,” Magnus deflected. “Of course I was there.”

Max swore, a frustrated groan escaping. “You are an important part of Alec’s _life_ , not the out-of-context hints that his fans are allowed to see. Do you see the way he looks at you in person? There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of photos out there of with Alec with fans, but none of them know him the way you do. Alec hasn’t allowed _anyone_ into his life the way he has with you. So who gives a fuck what the public sees, because Alec acknowledges how important you are to him in the way he lives _every day_.”

Magnus didn’t know how to respond. Couldn’t find the right words.

His certainty of what he believed he needed to do wavered.

Faltered.

He knew now what it felt like to have Alec touch him with more adoration than he deserved. He couldn’t imagine never holding Alec in his arms again or hearing him laugh. Or not being the person standing proudly next to Alec with each step Alec took to be more true to himself.

He didn’t want Alec to hurt. Didn’t want to give him up….

Max’s gaze searched Magnus’ face, a frown deepening on his face as he pointed at the TV. “You see that man in goal right now? I don’t recognize him. Something happened in that intermission and you know who he’ll tell that to first? You. And I’m not even bitter about that, because Alec needs someone to do that with besides his snarky little brother. And you? I don’t know what’s going on in your head either tonight….” Max’s lips turned down at a severe angle as his jaw tightened. “But I’m getting the feeling that you aren’t going to tell Alec what it is.”

He didn’t know exactly what he was going to say to Alec yet, but Max was right. If Magnus was going to remain in a position to protect Alec, then there were things Alec _couldn’t_ hear from him.

He opened his mouth to explain to Max what he was thinking, but the jarring ring of his cell startled him into silence.

Magnus’ eyes went to the caller ID and his heartbeat kicked up as he answered the call. “Good evening, Imogen.”

“My apologies for not reaching out earlier today,” she said on the other end of the line. “Congratulations on acquiring Jace Wayland.”

“Thank you.” She wasn’t solely calling to commend him. That much Magnus knew from years of working with her. “How may I help you?”

“IE has just purchased a suite at the Angels’ arena. Now that we have two star players, it only makes sense for the company.”

“It is a wise financial decision.” Magnus hadn’t heard any more guidance from her in the last two days, when they’d been in almost constant contact since she’d elevated his role at IE in the last few months. That he still wasn’t sure where her thoughts were heading was troublesome. He had to stay where he was if he had any chance at protecting Alec. “Am I to assume you want me to be in that suite tomorrow night, then?”

“I do.”

Magnus breathed a sigh of relief.

“And I think it would be best if you showed up at the game tomorrow with someone else besides a Lightwood at your side.”

Magnus tensed.

“I also highly suggest that person is a woman.”

Magnus’ blood froze, slinking like sludge through his veins. “You do realize that I’m bisexual, Imogen, not gay.”

Max, who could only hear one side of the conversation, sneered at that.

“Appearances are all that matters at this point,” Imogen said without apology. “IE can’t afford the scandal that is destroying TE&A right now.”

It was the proverbial nail. But instead of a coffin, this one served to secure his closet door shut. Again.

Magnus stared at the TV. The game was still scoreless and overtime appeared more likely as each minute passed.

Alec was still holding strong.

Magnus had to too.

He took a deep breath and gave her the answer that he’d realized last night was inevitable. “I know. I’ll be there.”

 

****

 

Alec didn’t want to look at the clock. His body was worn down, skin slick with sweat. But he had to know exactly how much time they had left so he could manage the play from the defensive zone. He had to keep that part of their game infallible, because the offense was still struggling.

Neither Raphael nor Jace had found an angle on Aldertree, and Alec had to wonder if the clinic yesterday had given Aldertree just enough of a hint of their play to step up his game today.

It was a ludicrous thought—there were now hundreds of games to study for the Angels’ two fastest players.

Aldertree was good, and Alec had to be better.

His job—his only job—was to keep that puck out.

The seconds ticked down, the buzzer sounding on the end of regulation play with neither team registering a score.

They were headed into overtime. This was where the rules changed.

One golden goal from either team, and the game would be over.

Alec would do his job….

And then he could go home.

To Magnus.

It was the only thought keeping him on his feet.

 

****

 

“Don’t fucking do this, Magnus,” Max growled through clenched teeth.

Magnus ignored him, opened his messages, and texted Catarina. _Have any desire to go to a hockey game tomorrow night?_

 _Never_ , Catarina replied. _But for you? Always_

Magnus sighed. That part was done.

“You don’t have to do this,” Max kept up, reading Magnus’ texts over his shoulder. “Why are you letting Imogen do this to you?”

“You’re right, Max. I don’t have to agree to anything Imogen asks of me.” Magnus set his phone down and faced Max. “But I’m choosing to do this.”

Max sputtered, jaw clenching. “Why?”

Max didn’t understand. Couldn’t.

Magnus would go to any lengths for Alec.

“Because I have to protect Alec.”

 

****

 

Alec wasn’t going to give in.

Wouldn’t let his concentration slip for one second.

He saw the Penguins working a two-on-one and barked out a warning, but the Angels’ defender was unprepared. The Penguins’ center, Freeman, spun around the D-man, flicking the puck off the ice.

Alec threw his body forward, dropping to his knees as the puck rebounded off his chest and back into play. The force of his momentum sent him crashing to the ice sideways, body sliding across the slick surface and out of the crease as he whipped his head around to find the puck that was still in play. One of the Angels D-men attempted to clear the puck out, but a Penguin was on him, picking the puck off the boards and dodging out of the way of the Angels defender. Alec tried to use his mitt to slap the puck away, but the Penguin’s skates were in motion and he backhanded the puck toward the net. Alec didn’t have time to think, he was feet outside of the goal so he threw his arm back, slamming the length of this stick in front of the goal and against the ice just as the puck ricocheted off his stick.

It was a save he shouldn’t have been able to make and the Penguins’ players had hesitated just long enough—expecting it to go in—that Garroway had already executed a shift change. Pangborn screamed onto the ice, slamming into the Penguin who had just picked up the puck and sending it careening toward center ice where Meliorn gained posession.

Meliorn bounced the puck between his skates, keeping it away from the Penguin battling it out with him, then kicked it out, passing it through the legs of the Penguins’ defender where Jace picked it up and went on the attack. Aldertree adjusted his position, anticipating a shot from the Angels’ winger. Instead, Jace teed up the shot, sliding it in front of the goal with a practiced flick of his wrist, and Meliorn whipped his stick forward, slamming the puck into the top of the net and sending Aldertree’s water bottle plummeting off the side of the net.

The light lit up behind Aldertree, and Meliorn fell to the ice, grinning, Angels piling on top of him.

Alec pushed his cage up and looped his arms around the crossbar, sagging against the net as he looked up at the scoreboard in relief.

One to zero.

The Angels had a three to one lead in the series.

But he had only a moment of peace before he was being pounced on from all sides.

“Three fucking shutouts! What the fuck, Lightwood?” Pangborn yelled at him and wrapped him up in a hug.

Alec couldn’t even find the breath to answer.

Three fucking shutouts.

If that wasn’t being brilliant in the net, he had no idea what was.

 

****

 

Magnus held his phone in his hands and waited for Alec to call as Max paced around his living room.

He anticipated the call would come at any second, but he still startled when his cell rang.

“You looked like you had a point to prove tonight,” he answered, voice as smooth as he could make it.

Alec didn’t seem to notice his tone and chuckled. “If I did, I made it.”

Magnus’ throat threatened to close as the sound of Alec’s laugh echoed in his ears. “Indeed.”

“I’ll land in New York late,” Alec said, the sounds of a joyful locker room in the background. “My knee is killing me and I’ll be beat, but I’d still love to see you.”

Magnus paused. Took a deep breath. “Have you talked to Isabelle?”

“You mean since yesterday? No. She’s been ignoring me since she found out about you coming here.”

Magnus frowned at the way Alec’s voice dropped into a near whisper as he said those words. Quieting himself so he wouldn’t be overheard by his teammates.

“Magnus?”

Magnus steeled himself. “It looks like Morgenstern dropped a picture of you entering my apartment building into the gossip pages.”

“That— Shit. Is anything tracking back to you?”

“Not so far. And no one else picked the story up.”

Alec was silent for a moment, then, “Maybe it’s better if I don’t come to your place.”

Magnus sighed. Maybe it was, but he couldn’t hide this from Alec. “There’s something else you need to know. Tessa uncovered a link that may influence how you move forward.”

“What is it?”

“When you have a home game and spend the night at my place the night before, you win. When you don’t, you lose. It’s the only superstition so far with a one hundred percent success rate.”

Alec blew out a long breath. “If we win tomorrow’s game, we win this series.”

Magnus knew. “Max did some digging and has found a way to get you here that will allay rumors. He’s here already and will meet you at the front door of my building when you arrive.”

He couldn’t bear to discuss what had happened with Jace’s agent, or Imogen, or who he was required to bring to the game tomorrow. Not yet. With now three shutouts in a row, Alec was playing the best hockey of his career. The Angels were one game away from moving on to the third round of the playoffs. Everything Alec had been working for was becoming reality and Magnus had to protect that.

“Magnus, you sound worried.”

“I’m tired,” Magnus answered honestly. He lifted his eyes, tracking the frustrated movement of Max across the floor. “Your brother can be exhausting.”

 _Tell him_ , Max mouthed, his jaw tight.

Magnus turned away.

“You sure you want me there?” Alec asked hesitantly.

“I always want you here, Alexander.”

That was the truth wrapped around a lie. Or maybe a truth, yet only half of it. No matter how he worded it, there was an inherent falsehood wrapped up in there. Therefore, the first lie he’d ever told Alec.

It was the first time since they’d hated each other at the beginning that Magnus dreaded seeing Alec. He didn’t know what he was going to say to him.

“I’ll be there in a few hours, I guess.”

“Travel safely. I’ll see you then, Alec.”

He hung up the phone and Max stomped over, glaring at him.

“You’re going to tell him, right? Everything?”

Magnus set his phone down. “I’m his agent, Max, and Alec has definitively stated he wants me to remain his agent…. Even after—” Magnus restrained a wince. “I will be at that negotiating table for him. Saving Alec’s reputation and career takes precedence over what I feel for him.”

“Even if he feels the same thing for you?” Max spit out.

Magnus had a history of falling faster than any of his partners. He knew Alec cared for him…. But love? He could dismiss Alec’s feelings for him as being the first man Alec had been with in years. Or that Alec was merely tasting the freedom of stepping out of the closet.

But Magnus knew better than that.

No one had ever touched him with as much care as Alec did. Sought out his presence for comfort. No one had been able to look past Magnus’ façade, and learn the man underneath. Value all of who he was.

If Alec wasn’t already in love with him, then Alec was falling.

Just as Ragnor had said, it was too late.

He’d taken all of these risks with foreknowledge of what it could mean for him—for _them_. He’d told Alec he was willing to do anything to make this work, and that couldn’t be just about his need for Alec. He wouldn’t be the cause of Alec’s destruction. If he had to set emotions aside in order to shield Alec, then he would.

“Magnus, answer me. Do you _really_ think hockey is more important to Alec than you are?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Thank fuck,” Max breathed out. “I thought you were going to tell me that it was.”

Magnus shook his head. “But none of that will matter if he loses it all.”

Magnus had lost everything time and time again, and in that loss had gained the knowledge of how vicious hindsight was, how unprepared one was to deal with the aftermath of blame for wrong choices made. He knew how to survive, but that process in and of itself brought bitterness. Rotted the sweetest of memories.

It was selfish, but he couldn’t bear to think of Alec looking at him with the same disdain as when they’d first met.

“No, no, no, no. _Fuck_ _no_!” Max’s eyes darkened, neck taut. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break up with him to protect him. Don’t be _that_ fucking idiot.”

Magnus lifted his eyes to Alec’s brother. The set of Magnus’ shoulders changed, features sliding into detached calm with practiced ease. It didn’t matter what he wanted or needed. He knew which path he had to choose.

“We’re not even together, Max. What is there to break up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you thought i was deep in hiding before when a chapter came out, hahahah omg i’m moving to antarctica now. i’m definitely not on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic. nope. can’t find me there at all ♡ xx


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alec is forced to choose which shots he’ll defend against, because he can’t save them all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooooo, anyone still here? i can’t count the days of the shadowhunters hiatus anymore because THE SHOW IS BACK!! thank fuck. this fic was meant to be a hiatus project solely but omfg that just didn’t happen. *shrugs*
> 
> overall though the plan remains the same. 25 chapters total in the main arc, with now five bonus stories planned for after the main arc is completed. this chapter is just over 30k. not egregious by itsb standards, but definitely not normal. jfc that’s a lot of words.
> 
> speaking of so many fucking words, i can't let this chapter go by without mentioning @sarcasticlightwood, @magicandarchery, and @warlocksass. december was a really fucking tough month for me and y'all sheltered me and lifted me up through it all, and somehow managed to still work through multiple rounds of this chapter with me. you already had my love, but it just grows deeper every day. damn you. ;)
> 
> i’m still tracking #itsb on twitter. and thanks to all you lovely live-tweeting souls, i think we banished that dreaded shoe company trying to steal my hashtag. go you!!
> 
> a reminder since it’s been awhile--the angels are in the second of four possible rounds of the playoffs. as of the end of ch 15, their series with the penguins stands at angels 3 - penguins 1. all playoff rounds are “best of seven games”--meaning one team has to win at least four games to move on.
> 
> i don’t think there are any hockey terms that need to be explained in this chapter???? let me know if you think there are.
> 
> final act of business...
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: homophobic assholes, gaslighting, one mention of a previously discussed sexual assault
> 
> (if i ever do miss a trigger warning, please let me know asap so i can add it in)
> 
> ok. here we gooooooo!

A chill ran down Magnus’ spine.

It was nauseating to verbally deny Alec’s place in his life, to make his lips form those callous words— _We’re not even together, Max. What is there to break up?_ —but he knew what he had to do.

It wasn’t the first time in his life he’d needed to be hardened and cold-blooded to protect himself, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Max’s eyes darted over Magnus’ face, his mouth open to respond, only to immediately clamp it shut again. Max drew himself up and stalked across the living room toward Magnus. “Now you’re just being an asshole,” he growled.

Magnus restrained a wince. He couldn’t defend himself against Max’s accusation—he _was_ being cruel. Vicious, biting denial was one of his most familiar self-defense mechanisms. He was far too practiced with separating emotion from thought—extricating want from survival—and it took far less effort to distance himself than it really should have. But Max tore through those barriers and yanked Magnus outside his walls with an ease that betrayed Max’s own inner demons.

Magnus had miscalculated in his attempt to deny his feelings for Alec, thinking that Max wouldn’t see through it—it was a survival instinct that only the wounded recognized. Those who were so deeply scarred by circumstance that they could see each other’s wounds as if they were gouged into flesh instead of being soul deep—a kinship of pain. That Max saw that part of Magnus so clearly shouldn’t have surprised him. Understanding _why_ he did…. It was heartbreaking.

He’d allowed each of the Lightwood siblings to see pieces of himself that no one else had ever been privy to, and they’d offered him the same. He didn’t want Max to hate him. Or Izzy. He was sick at the thought of Alec looking at him with the same bent of betrayal that was painted on Max’s face now.

Magnus steadfastly kept tears from gathering in his eyes. He wasn’t weak. He knew what he had to do—for all of them. He couldn’t allow any more pain to be brought upon this family.

“You don’t understand, Max.”

Max swore under his breath and sank onto the coffee table across from Magnus. “That’s the second time you’ve said that tonight. How do you know that I don’t understand? And, more importantly, how can I—or Alec for that matter—understand if you don’t tell us what’s going on in your head?”

Magnus scowled and avoided Max’s eyes. He couldn’t back down now.

“Magnus….” Max pleaded, knocking his fist against Magnus’ knee. “I see you. I see that you’re tearing yourself up inside, that you’re in pain, and that you’re trying to make me angry. You’re trying to drive me away…. The only thing I don’t know for sure is _why_.”

Magnus clenched his jaw and remained silent.

Apparently, his silence was enough of an answer for Max. He bent forward into Magnus’ space, and his voice softened. “I’m practice, aren’t I? You’re going to do the same thing to Alec.”

The vulnerability in Max’s voice undid him. Every second that passed was another second closer to Alec stepping through his door. He only had so much time to untangle all of the emotions tethering him to Alec—and that would be hard enough—but Max had a firm grip on the end of Magnus’ rope and was refusing to let _him_ go.

Magnus felt Max leaning in again.

“Look,” Max said with a gentleness that tore at Magnus’ heart. “I know guilt is a low fucking blow, but—” Max paused to take a deep breath. “If you think it’s hard for Alec to be hiding who he is right now, how can you even think of adding heartbreak on top of that? He’ll be destroyed if you break up with him—it will fuck with both his life and his work. What makes you think _that_ is the right choice?”

“I’m not—” Magnus let slip before he bit down on his lip.

“You’re not what? Magnus, please, just talk to me.”

Magnus pulled his knees to his chest.

He could see why Max thought that breaking up with Alec was his intention. He’d encouraged that theory by not denying it as soon as that accusation had left Max’s lips. But the truth was, “I’m not going to end things with him. I’d _never_ —” His throat tightened. Voice cracked. “I can’t bear the thought of letting him go.”

“What?” Max’s voice shot up. “Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“Max, he’s at the height of his career right now. I know he thinks that I’m important, and that he might feel just as strongly for me as I do for him. But those feelings for me aren’t— _I’m_ not worth him losing everything he’s achieved. He doesn’t see that right now, and I can’t be the reason he loses it all. He means too much to me for that to happen. I have to give him…space to really think about that.” Magnus met Max’s eyes finally. “I need him to know that I’ll continue to protect him—as his agent—even if he chooses his safety and career before me.”

“Holy fuck,” Max breathed out in a pained whisper. “You really think he’s going to do that, don’t you?”

That was exactly what Magnus was preparing for.

Magnus could barely gather enough breath to answer. “He should.”

Max gaped.

“I’ve done nothing but bring turmoil into his life,” Magnus insisted. “He deserves to be happy, Max.”

“Magnus—” Max put his head in his hands and tugged at his hair. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

All he’d been doing was running through his inner monologue over and over the last day. “I’m thinking about Alec. Alec has to have the freedom to choose what part I play in his life.”

“Alec gets to make that choice?” Max scoffed. “What about you? What do _you_ choose?”

“I love him, Max.” The words slipped past his lips too easily. He couldn’t come anywhere close to admitting that to Alec when he saw him tonight. He couldn’t lay that confession at Alec’s feet and expect him not to want to pick it up and make them work, regardless of how much it harmed him. “I will do anything for him not to hurt anymore.”

“Okay,” Max drew out. “So you’re not a protective idiot, you’re just the self-sacrificing kind.”

Magnus huffed.

Max mumbled a string of Spanish words under his breath then locked eyes with Magnus. “Are you going to talk to him when he gets here? Tell him everything about Jace’s agent and Imogen?”

That was one thing Magnus wasn’t questioning. “Of course. If I wasn’t then I wouldn’t have him coming here.”

Max sagged forward. “Good.”

Magnus eyed Max’s eased demeanor warily. “Why do you suddenly look so calm?”

“Because all of this will be better in a few hours.” Max pushed up from the coffee table, and headed for the kitchen. “You make Alec happy. You’re _good_ for him. There’s no way Alec will ever choose his career over you.”

Magnus took in Max’s complete confidence in both Magnus and his brother. Tried to believe Max was right.

He wished he could be as certain.

But he was on unstable ground, and no matter how much he wanted to believe Alec would choose him, and that choice wouldn’t be bring more danger….

He was scared.

 

****

 

Alec should have been riding a post-win high that would carry him through to tomorrow’s game. The Angels were one game away from moving on to the conference finals for the first time in ten years, he’d just earned his third shutout in a row—his fourth of the post season—and as a team they were bringing the force of that momentum into home territory.

But there was something going on with Magnus, and whatever it was made Alec uneasy. The effects of game-time adrenaline hadn’t had a chance to completely dissipate, and that combined with the anxiety tightening his chest forced Alec to the edge. Every laugh from a teammate made him flinch. Every jostle or pat to the back from another player caused his nerves to sizzle along his skin.

He couldn’t shake the heaviness on his shoulders—as if he was still wearing all his sweat-soaked gear. He couldn’t erase the sound of Magnus’ weary voice from his brain. Worst of all, he couldn’t stop the incessant repeating in his head of Magnus calling him “Alec” since he’d hung up the phone.

He bounced his knee as Jace pulled out of the player’s lot of the Angels’ arena, and glanced at his best friend. “Thanks for driving me. I know Brooklyn is way out of your way.”

“It’s no problem. I’m actually—” Jace ran his fingers through his hair and clamped his mouth shut.

Alec narrowed his eyes. “Actually what?”

“Nothing.”

Alec sighed. He was too worn down from the game—and trying to figure out what kind of situation he was walking into—to deal with Jace’s mind games tonight. He peered out the window as they passed the turn off for his apartment, continuing on toward Brooklyn. He hadn’t been home since the cops had been there. It didn’t feel safe—not like Magnus’ apartment did….

Alec winced.

Or rather, like he hoped it still would after tonight.

Jace flipped on the radio, keeping the volume low, and glanced at Alec. “Magnus said it’s okay to come to his place, right? Even with the picture in the Post?”

“Yeah.” Alec managed a tired shrug. He didn’t understand yet how it possibly could be okay, but he trusted both of them. “He said that Max would be waiting for me outside.”

“Then he’s got it under control.” Jace scanned through the radio stations, flicking through until the league channel popped up on the dash screen. The commentators were picking apart their game with a callous precision. Jace jammed his finger against the button on the screen to shut the radio off. “About tonight’s game….”

Alec clenched his teeth. He’d been trying _not_ to think about how close the game had been because the forwards couldn’t sync up their play. “I want to wave it off, but what the hell happened out there?”

Jace whipped around a corner, cutting off a line of cars. “I was…distracted.”

Alec glared at Jace. “By something _off the ice_?”

The leather steering wheel creaked as Jace gripped it tight. “I know you’re pissed.”

It was hard not to be when Jace had been so focused on Alec’s personal life bleeding onto the ice early in the playoffs. Alec may have physically been on the rink with his teammates then, but he hadn’t been with them mentally. Unlike tonight, though, Alec’s distractions had led to them losing. Plus, on the growing list of major life crises to worry about, this sank to the very bottom. Jace was responsible for getting his own head together for the next game.

Alec drummed his fingers against his leg. “We won. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s not. But I’ll get it together.”

“I know you will.”

They drove in silence as they started to cross the Brooklyn Bridge. The soaring metal and wire structure was always gorgeous lit up at night, but even the stunning view couldn’t ease him. Alec’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch with every minute they got closer to Magnus’ loft. He spun his cell in his hands, then texted Max that he was almost there.

Jace shook his head and laughed, uncharacteristic nerves making the sound too sharp. “I get the feeling that both of us are doing things tonight that we shouldn’t, especially considering how crucial tomorrow’s game is.”

“I definitely am, we both know that,” Alec said without any trace of humor. “Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

Jace sagged into his seat, eyes focused on the half-empty streets. “It’s Lydia….”

“I figured. Maybe at least this Post article will help free her up soon so you two can figure… _that_ out.”

Jace took his eyes off the road to look Alec in the eye. “…and it’s Clary.”

Alec sputtered and studied Jace, searching for his telltale dimples but only finding apprehension stretched tight around Jace’s mouth. He was afraid of Alec’s reaction—something Alec had very little experience with. “Shit. Okay, please tell me you’re not seeing both of them behind each other’s backs.”

“I’m not eighteen years old, Alec,” Jace bit out. “It’s not like that. I’m handling it, okay?”

“Clary will fucking murder you,” Alec insisted. “And Lydia will help her dispose of your body.”

Jace chuckled and his dimples popped out. It was the first real smile Alec had seen from him since the game. “Believe me, I’m really fucking aware of that.”

Alec dropped his head against the headrest and sighed as he looked to Jace. “Alright, just don’t make my life any more complicated than it already is, okay? Whatever—or whoever—it is you’re doing tonight, do me a favor and show up at the game _not_ distracted tomorrow.”

“Can you promise the same thing?”

Shit. He really couldn’t.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Good talk, bro.”

Jace eased the Maserati up to the curb in front of Magnus’ building, where Max was leaning against the brick wall, chin down, hunched over his cell typing away. Jace hit the button to lower the passenger side window and leaned over Alec, calling out to Max. “Hey! You looking for a good time?”

Max grinned and pocketed his cell, pushing off the wall. “Always. But this car screams ‘I have a small penis.’”

Jace flashed an easy smile. “Then there’s reality….”

Max smirked and leaned on the door, nodding to Alec. “You coming inside?”

“I think that depends on Magnus,” Jace quipped.

Max’s features dropped for less than a second, but it was enough to make any possibility of a laugh stick in Alec’s throat. Whatever was going on, it was serious enough for Max not to laugh at an awful innuendo. _Fuck_.

Alec swallowed hard and tried to force a smile. “Thanks for the ride, Jace.” He knocked his fist against Jace’s, then Max stepped back so Alec could swing out the door.

Jace popped the trunk and Alec lifted out his bags, shouldering his duffel and handing his suitcase to Max to wheel in. They both waved to Jace as he took off again—in the opposite direction of his apartment—and Alec tried to get a read on Max as the quiet settled around them.

Max’s gaze was focused away from him, eyes scanning the street.

Alec’s chest tightened uncomfortably. He didn’t dare draw more attention to them by trying to follow where Max was looking. “You sure this is safe?”

That seemed to snap Max out of whatever zone he’d been in. He smiled up at Alec. “Yeah, it’s safe. Even if there are cameras…. We’re good.”

Max turned toward the front door and Alec followed. “How? What did you figure out?”

“The apartment next to Magnus’ is up for sale,” Max said as he unlocked the door and held it open for Alec. “Your little brother is renting it with the option to buy since it’s so close to his workshop.”

Alec stopped in his tracks in the vestibule and Max faltered as he attempted not to crash into Alec’s back. “You really did?”

“Yeah.”

Alec’s mouth couldn’t keep up with the thoughts swirling through his head. The only response he could get out was, “Why?”

“I want to see you happy, big brother.”

 _Happy_. If Max knew what was going on with Magnus, really did want to see him happy, _and_ was still taking him up to Magnus’ place, then whatever was going on couldn’t be that bad, could it?

Alec fiddled with the strap to his bag. “So, um, since Magnus sent you down here…. Where am I staying tonight?”

“Well, there’s nothing in the apartment since I just picked up the keys today, but even if I had moved anything in…. The superstition is his place, right? This just gives you a legit reason to be in the building.” Max clapped him on the back, pushing him through the set of double doors into the main lobby. “Danny! Have you met my brother?”

That it was Max’s first day here and he had already made friends didn’t surprise Alec one bit.

The ginger man behind the desk grinned. “Great game, Mr. Lightwood.”

Danny was the same guy who’d let Alec in the night he’d spent here without Magnus, but Alec had had other things on his mind that night. He shook Danny’s hand. “Call me Alec. And hey….” Alec dug into his pocket and pulled a card out of his wallet. “I know I probably came off badly the last time I was here, sorry about that. If you’re off work tomorrow night and want to come to the game, call this number and tell them I asked you to call. The game is sold out, but they’ll get you a couple seats.”

“That’s wicked cool of you,” Danny said. He set the card down and looked at Alec. “Mr. Bane is your agent, right?”

Max snorted and Alec stifled a blush, nodding.

Danny hunched over the desk, swiping a pen across a bright blue sticky note. “Mr. Bane already has this—I help him out with errands and other stuff when he’s wrapped up with work, and he trades me for those ridiculously expensive bottles of bourbon that are always getting thrown his way for free….” Danny laughed, a bright smile stretching wide as he handed over the piece of paper. “Anyway, here’s my cell. If you or Max ever need anything, give me a call—even if I’m not on duty.”

Alec pocketed the note and turned toward the elevator. “Thanks.”

“Night, Danny,” Max said as he followed Alec.

“Oh,” Danny called out, “and if you see Mr. Bane, can you tell him that it was too late to cancel his order on that second set of keys for his place? I waived the fee and they’re in his mailbox. Never know when they may come in handy.”

Second set of keys? That he’d _cancelled_? Alec’s stomach dropped.

Max winced for only a second, then he faced Danny again with a fake smile lifting his lips. “Yeah, no problem.”

They walked into the elevator and Max rested his back against the wall of the elevator, facing Alec. The grin he’d plastered on for Danny dropped swiftly when the doors closed.

“Look, Alec—”

Alec cut him off with one laser-focused glare. “What the hell is going on?”

“You and Magnus gotta talk.”

No shit.

Alec scowled.

“Magnus is—” Max picked at the frayed edges of his hoodie, then frowned. “He’s an idiot, but he’s doing exactly what I’m doing, just in a different way.”

Alec furrowed his brow. “And what’s that?”

“Setting aside what’s best for us in order to protect you.”

Alec searched his brother’s face, dread sliding through him. “You’re scaring me, Max.”

Max shook his head, eyes meeting Alec’s. “That may not be a bad thing. Maybe then you won’t be blindsided.”

“I’m feeling pretty fucking blindsided right now,” Alec snapped as the elevator doors opened to Magnus’—and now Max’s—floor.

“It’ll be fine.” Max put his hand on the knob to Magnus’ door and stopped. “Just…. Promise me you won’t shut down.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

Max huffed in frustration and dragged Alec to the other side of the hallway, poking a finger into Alec’s chest. “You clamp down like an overeager ass around a lightly-lubed butt plug when anything emotionally challenging gets thrown your way.”

Alec scrunched his eyebrows together in disgust, ignoring how right his brother was.

“How are we even related?” he choked out.

Max smiled at that. “You love me. It’ll be fine, Alec. Just promise me, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that reluctant promise reverberating on his lips, Max opened Magnus’ door and held it for Alec.

The first thing Alec saw when he walked in was Magnus. Even before he’d admitted to himself how he felt, his attention had always been drawn to Magnus first.

He thought of refusing to sit next to Magnus at Izzy’s dinner table, then of a shared meal on rumpled bed sheets. Of yelling in Magnus’ face in anger—denial thick in his throat—then of drawing Magnus close because he desperately needed to know what those lips felt like against his.

He thought of just how removed he’d been from his own life only months ago, and how Magnus was the foundation, the strength, for the life he was building now. How this loft was more like home than his own apartment—simply because Magnus was here.

But the stoic man in front of him wasn’t anyone he recognized.

Magnus was planted firm, hands braced on the back of the couch, his lips thinned into an angry line. He looked pissed. Or was it worried? He looked so unlike himself it was jarring—not a speck of glitter, no decorative jewelry lying against his skin, and his hair was swept flat off his forehead, tucked behind one ear. His eyes were a dark green, no hint of gold in the shadowed depths.

He was meeting Alec’s scrutiny inch for inch, but there was a sense of detachment to his gaze. The distance between him and Magnus couldn’t be measured in feet. Magnus was closed off—but not walled up and not cockily confident either. This was a persona of Magnus’ Alec had never seen before.

Alec opened his mouth to speak, and what tumbled out was an echo of what had been running through his head for hours now. “Why did you call me _Alec_?”

Magnus’ only response was a tightening of his jaw.

Max groaned. “Well that was well-lubed and just ready to slip out, huh?” He shook his head and pointed toward the office. “I’m just going to go in there.”

Max patted his leg and the Chairman trotted after him. Music started up almost immediately from inside the room, and Alec realized with a sinking stomach that Max was trying to give them privacy.

What the hell was going on?

Alec swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “I’m assuming it’s okay to come in. You said I was always welcome here.”

Magnus nodded and walked toward Alec. “You are.”

Magnus wound around Alec, deliberately keeping his body from touching Alec as he closed the door.

Alec gritted his teeth against the frustration building in every overly tired cell of his body. “I’m not feeling very welcome right now.”

The sound of the lock clicking into place was deafening. Alec couldn’t see Magnus, but he could feel his presence. Normally it was the irresistible draw of attraction and need, but tonight…. There was a prickling at the base of his neck that reminded him of having an opponent in his blind spot behind the net. Of preparing to deflect a shot. Of just how fast failure could come if he wasn’t on the defensive.

“We need to talk,” Magnus finally said as he maneuvered around Alec again, putting the island at his back.

“No shit.” Alec dropped his duffel to the floor, but couldn’t move from his spot just inside the door. He crossed his arms and faced Magnus. “Want to clue me in on what?”

Magnus’ face was clinically blank, devoid of the well of emotion Alec knew ran deep and tumultuous underneath Magnus’ skin.

And that’s when it hit Alec. _This_ was why Max had begged him not to shut down—because Magnus already had. They were like magnets of the same wavelength, pushing each other away. If Alec continued to be angry, he’d only push them farther apart.

Alec sucked in a breath and fought against every defensive instinct he’d ingrained in himself for years. He tucked his chin in, and inhaled another steadying breath. “I’m listening.”

“It’s not solely the Post article you should be concerned about,” Magnus said. “There was an…incident with Jace’s former agent.”

“I know all about it, Jace told me.” He stuffed down the resentment that Jace had been the one to tell him, and not Magnus. He tried not to use that as a reason to shut Magnus out. “He said you were handling it.”

“I am.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“What’s the problem?” Magnus repeated. His face contorted. “Do you have any sense of self-preservation, Alec?”

Alec clenched his jaw as Magnus used his nickname again. “I know you have it under control and are doing everything you can. I trust you. So, yeah, what’s the problem?”

“As your agent I do have it under control, but as your—” Magnus cut himself off, jaw grinding.

Alec shivered as the pieces began to click into place.

 _As your boyfriend I don’t_.

It was the only ending to that sentence Alec could fill in. Was that what this was? Insecurity because Magnus couldn’t fix everything?

He couldn’t stand the space between them anymore—physical or emotional. He took two wide steps, reaching out for Magnus, but Magnus flinched back before Alec could get close enough. Alec’s hands shook. The need to reassure Magnus was overwhelming.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets instead. “It’s not just that, is it? There’s something else.”

“There is. Imogen purchased a suite at the arena,” Magnus said, his voice flat. “She wants me to come to the game tomorrow, and specifically instructed me to bring a woman as my guest. I agreed.”

Alec’s heart leapt into his throat.

Coming out as gay—forcibly or not—he’d find the strength to handle, he was headed there eventually anyway. And, yeah, he was scared about what would happen to his contract if he was outed before he was ready, but at the same time he was playing so well he couldn’t imagine every team in the league passing him over just because he was gay. Even if he ended up in the worst team in the league, one that was desperate for a good goaltender, he would still be playing. But this?

Alec was going to be sick.

“I’ve dragged you back into the closet. Which is exactly where you said you never wanted to be again. Why would you agree to that?”

Magnus wrapped his arms around his chest. Alec didn’t know if that was because he needed a barrier between the two of them, or if he was holding himself together. Both considerations cut him to the core.

“Because as distasteful as Imogen’s request is, it protects you. I won’t betray your trust, and I will do everything in my power to protect you.” Magnus tipped his chin defiantly up and met Alec’s eyes. “Even if that means you only want me as your agent.”

Magnus’ tone and posture said one thing—that he was angry and challenging Alec. But it was always Magnus’ eyes that gave him away. His downturned eyes lingered on Alec’s face as Alec repeated Magnus’ words in his head, trying to make sense of them.

“Why would I— What?”

“Your safety and your career are being threatened because of me,” Magnus continued, undeterred. “I don’t break my promises, and that includes the promise I made to protect your career. If that means we can’t be together, then that is your choice and I’ll respect it.”

It wasn’t anger or worry coloring Magnus’ demeanor. It was guilt. Guilt that he’d failed Alec somehow.

Guilt that was driving him to suggest the _worst_ of ideas.

“What the hell?” Alec burst out. “No. That’s not what I want. At all!”

“Alec.” Magnus’ voice was hard. “You have to be sure.”

“Stop. Calling. Me. Alec.” Alec held back from reaching out for Magnus in desperation. “I know everything that’s happening is…overwhelming, but being with you— It’s—” He stammered over his words, trying to make Magnus understand. “You make my life better. Complicated and scary, yeah of course, but better. Why would I give that up? Why would I want to give _you_ up?”

“Because you deserve better than what I have to offer.”

A chill passed over Alec’s skin. He scanned Magnus’ face. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

Magnus’ gaze dropped as he gnawed at his lip.

No. It wasn’t solely guilt. Magnus thought he was the problem and that eliminating himself from the equation was the solution.

What the fuck?

“Well I don’t—” Alec started, but was cut short by the grimace on Magnus’ face. Alec’s heart was beating too fast in his chest. His thoughts could barely keep up with the slam of each new realization of just how wounded Magnus was by everything that had happened, and how little Alec had done to truly understand—to shield him from it. He leaned toward Magnus so they were eye to eye. _He_ wasn’t going to shut down.

“Listen to me, Magnus. You are _more_ than I ever could have thought to ask for.”

“Getting involved with me was mistake,” Magnus said as if he hadn’t heard Alec at all. “None of this would have happened—”

“Magnus,” Alec said gently. “Stop.”

Magnus clamped his mouth shut with so much force his teeth clacked together. He tucked his chin toward his chest, hands shaking as he shoved them under his arms.

Alec hurt.

There was no other word for it.

He hurt because Magnus did, and he hurt because he didn’t know how to fix any of this….

He touched just his fingertips to Magnus’ stomach, and when Magnus didn’t flinch back, he took a step closer to him. “When you asked me, I told you that it’s you I want _and_ need. But I never asked—” Alec inhaled a ragged breath. Why hadn’t he thought to ask? He had to be better at that for Magnus. “Please be honest with me. What do you want?”

Magnus sucked in a breath that had chillbumps rising on his arms. When he finally looked at Alec, his eyes were shining. “I want you.”

Alec breathed a sigh of relief.

With that confession past Magnus’ lips, Alec slid his hand over Magnus’ stomach and curled his fingers over Magnus’ hip, holding them steady. Together. “And what do you need?”

Magnus visibly swallowed, as if he was deciding whether or not to answer, then, “For you to be happy.”

Magnus didn’t need anything for himself—he needed Alec to be happy. It was too much for Alec’s heart to take in.

He leaned down and rested his forehead against Magnus’. “I am happy with you. Fuck. So much.”

“That may not be enough,” Magnus said in a pained whisper.

It _wouldn’t_ be enough if Magnus wasn’t happy too. He had to do a better job of understanding where Magnus was coming from. He couldn’t be so internally focused that he missed what Magnus had trouble saying out loud.

Fuck the rest of the world, all that mattered was making _them_ stronger.

He brushed his thumb over Magnus’ neck, Magnus’ heartbeat thundering under his fingertip. “I want you, you want me. Why can’t it be that simple?”

“Because it’s not.”

Alec knew. “If the world was a fair place, it would be.”

But there was very little either one of them could do about that. All they could do was continue fighting. For respect. For themselves. For each other.

“Fuck hockey,” Alec said, his voice raw. “I’m not walking away from you.”

Magnus inhaled a shuddering breath, set his palms on Alec’s chest and closed his eyes. “It’s late. You need to sleep, Alexander.”

Alec’s heart tripped over the sound of his full name—finally—on Magnus’ lips. “I’m very aware of both the time and the fact that I haven’t kissed you yet.”

Magnus didn’t move.

“Please,” Alec breathed out. “Please let me kiss you.”

Magnus curled his fingers into Alec’s shirt and coaxed him down, lips meeting in a soft press that was all restraint. Alec resisted the urge to deepen the kiss and let Magnus lead. Barely a breath later, Magnus’ hands were unwinding from Alec’s shirt and wrapping around his neck as Magnus tilted his head and opened for Alec with a sigh. Alec poured his love for Magnus into the kiss, gripped him tighter and refused to let him go. Now or ever.

Until the sound of applause resounded behind him.

Alec glanced at Max over his shoulder, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Sorry, it got so quiet out here I had to peek….” Max shrugged. “Then slow clap it out when all I saw was smooching.”

Magnus huffed indignantly and Alec buried his face in Magnus’ neck.

“I can’t believe he lives next door to you now,” Alec whispered into Magnus’ warm skin.

A low chuckle echoed in Alec’s ear as Magnus squeezed him tighter. “I told you—your brother is exhausting.”

“I hate to break the moment,” Max continued, “but since I can’t be seen leaving the building with Alec here, there’s nothing in my apartment next door, and I’m definitely _not_ into listening to my brother have sex, let’s get to the really serious question of sleeping arrangements.”

 _Shit_. Alec hadn’t even thought about that.

Magnus kissed Alec’s cheek. “Welcome home, Alexander.”

 _Home_.

This exact spot was where he was meant to be.

The lingering anxiety from tonight wasn’t gone, but it was better. There was so much more that needed to be said—so much more he needed to hear from Magnus—but for now that could wait. He could breathe now, and he hoped Magnus could too.

It didn’t matter how tough things got.

He wouldn’t let Magnus go.

 

****

 

Magnus was bone-weary. He couldn’t remember being this emotionally wrecked in a long time. He’d prepared himself for the worst—of watching Alec walk out his door with no promise of ever returning. He’d convinced himself that was the best-case scenario that could come of anything he had to say. And now….

He pulled the sheets back on his side of the bed, and crawled in…next to Max.

Max smirked as he looked at Magnus. “This is fun.”

On the other side of Max—crammed into the opposite end of the king size bed—Alec scoffed. “This is ridiculous.”

Max flipped open his iPad, undeterred by his brother’s surliness. “Anyone want to watch The Notebook?”

“No!” Magnus and Alec griped in unison.

Max’s grin spread from ear to ear. “Oh my god, both of you are such martyrs. I’m just fucking with you. I’ll be on the couch.” He tucked his iPad under his arm and scooted to the end of the bed.

Magnus scowled. He should have known. Max hadn’t even bothered to take off his prosthetic.

“No boning, sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning,” Max said as he passed through the bedroom door. He glanced down at the Chairman, trotting behind him. “Maybe I’ll bring Church with me next time so you have a friend.”

“Thank fuck,” Alec huffed and stripped off his shirt and pants as soon as the door was closed. “I sleep better without all these clothes.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow at Alec’s disappearing garments.

Splotches of red appeared on Alec’s cheeks. “I mean, only if you’re okay with it.”

Magnus let a soft smile go and shed everything except the obligatory pair of underwear he’d put on for Max’s sake.

“I can’t believe he played that up until the last second.” Alec flipped off the overhead light and jumped back into bed. “My brother _is_ exhausting.”

“Egregiously so,” Magnus said as he settled back in, leaving the soft light on his nightstand on. “Now come here.”

Alec scooted over and draped himself over Magnus. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Magnus couldn’t find the words to respond. He hadn’t imagined this would happen at all. He’d been dreading tonight all day, but now Alec was here—and for the long term, if Alec’s words were any indication. He tightened his arms around Alec and sank into the sensation of Alec’s beard scratching at his chest. Of the steady thump of Alec’s heartbeat against his ribs. Of Alec’s breath coasting across his bare skin.

It all could have been sexual—but it wasn’t. Magnus had bled out every ounce of passion he possessed when he stood in front of Alec, offering him a chance to escape, and warring with himself over whether or not Alec should take it.

He kissed Alec’s hair, and ran his fingertip over the bruise that was just starting to fade from the three hour bubble they’d spent together in Pittsburgh. Tonight, they were going to have hours more than that. Tomorrow, it could be even more.

But with Alec in his arms when he’d been sure Alec wouldn’t be here at all, and the certainty behind Alec’s words burrowing through his head, he couldn’t get his eyes to close. When he stole a peek at Alec, he noticed Alec’s eyes were open—pupils wide, fixated on something Magnus couldn’t see.

Magnus ran his hands through Alec’s hair. “What are you thinking about?”

Alec blinked, then pressed in closer to Magnus’ side. “Wondering who you’re bringing to the game with you tomorrow.”

Magnus gently tipped Alec’s chin so he could look him in the eye. “I’m not going solely because Imogen demanded my presence. I _want_ to be there, Alexander—for you. Catarina will be my guest, but she is certainly not my date.” He hoped that would soften any guilt Alec felt about the choice he’d made. “I do wish you’d already met her.”

“Soon, okay?”

“Of course.”

Shadows cut across Alec’s face from the dim light on Magnus’ nightstand, reshaping Alec’s features and masking the physical tells that were usually easy for Magnus to read. His fingers traced over taut muscles in Alec’s neck and shoulders. His own stomach was a tangle of knots that had been so tightly wound it was going to take a while for them to ease completely. Considering that Alec hadn’t dropped easily into sleep either, maybe Alec was facing the same uncertainty.

Since it seemed like neither of them was quite ready for sleep, Magnus asked the question that had been bothering him while watching the game. “What happened out there on the ice tonight? You came into the third period…different.”

Alec’s brow furrowed, his lips moving in that familiar way that they did when he was thinking about what to say before speaking out loud. “It’s just…. I think I’ve been living my life _and_ playing hockey on the defensive instead of the offensive…. It was all so clear a few hours ago, but it all seems a bit more theoretical than practical right now. Hard to explain.”

Magnus thought he understood. “A change in mindset. Bolstering your own defenses instead of waiting to find out how you’re being attacked, perhaps?”

“Yeah, that.” Alec laughed softly. “How do you do that? Pick the words out of my head so easily?”

“I try to understand, not just hear you.”

“You do.” Alec’s expression turned serious. “Anyway, I feel like I have more control now than I thought I did.”

Magnus considered the true weight of those words. “You realized _you_ were worth fighting for.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way. Yeah. I guess I did.” Alec propped his chin on Magnus’ chest and looked up at him, his hazel eyes clear. “I wish you believed the same thing about yourself.”

Magnus swallowed. He had to answer Alec’s honesty with his own, no matter how difficult it was to admit. “I’m trying.”

Alec gazed up at him, and Magnus couldn’t imagine how he’d thought Alec would actually choose to let him go.

Magnus swiped at his eyes self-consciously. “Did I neglect to remove all of my makeup?”

Alec shook his head. “Your eyes— I don’t think I’ve ever said— They’re so….” Alec smiled. “They’re stunning. Unusual and memorable, like you.”

Magnus felt his own, uncharacteristic blush heating his cheeks. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I hope you do.” Alec laid his head down again, fingers tracing the line of Magnus’ ribs. “Magnus?”

“Yes?”

“I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Magnus didn’t need to respond. He knew Alec would be able to hear the increased rhythm of his heart.

He tried to not only hear Alec’s words, but believe them too. Magnus had to begin trusting that Alec was doing what was best for him, not just what he thought Magnus wanted.

He settled his hand on the back of Alec’s neck before reaching over to flip off the light on his nightstand. “Goodnight, Alexander.”

“Night.”

And Magnus closed his eyes, content with the knowledge that this time he’d get to say good morning too.

 

****

 

Alec knew he was dreaming.

He was struggling against the thin veil that kept him locked in the darkness surrounding him and the light he could sense on the other side of his eyelids—if he could force them open. There were chains around his ankles, his waist, and his wrist—but only one side. Silver feathers were warm against his skin of his left wrist, coaxing him, tugging to pull him free. If he could tap into their strength, if he could remain calm, he could figure out how to escape….

He blinked against the brightness of the morning sun, golden and red through Magnus’ bedroom window. Magnus’ body was plastered to his back, Magnus’ fingertips brushing Alec’s stomach and lips skimming his neck.

“Good morning, Alexander.”

Despite the remnants of the dream leaving a chilled wake across his skin, Alec had to smile. He was safe here. “Morning.” He laid his hand over Magnus’ and cleared the sleep from his throat. “Did you know that it’s scientifically proven that when people spend the night together in close proximity a chemical is released in the brain that increases trust levels?”

Magnus entwined his fingers with Alec’s. “And how did you come to know this fact?”

“Don’t laugh.”

Magnus nodded against him.

“I was reading up on team building.” Immediately the bed began to shake. Alec frowned. “You’re laughing.”

“My apologies, Alexander. But the mental images of an entire hockey team spooning together are inescapable.” He nipped at the skin between Alec’s shoulders. “And yet also quite maddening.”

Alec grinned. “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“I’d like to think I’m the only one who has the opportunity to do this.”

“You are.”

He felt Magnus’ smile against his skin.

“Now that you’re awake and it _is_ game day….” Magnus tangled his fingers in Alec’s chest hair and tugged gently. “Just how beholden are you to your shower superstition?”

Alec lazily pushed back against the hardness pressed into his lower back. “To that it’s solo, in the shower, or that I’m getting off?”

“All of the above.”

Alec swallowed thickly. “Only the third part is important.”

“Well then. I’d like to propose an alternative.”

Alec glanced at the door. “Max is here.”

“He left about ten minutes ago,” Magnus reassured him. “He texted me that he was going out to his workshop and procuring us breakfast.”

Alec stretched, rolling onto his back and crossing his arms behind his head. “In that case, I’m up for negotiations, Agent 0069.”

Magnus’ lip twitched. “Ready to hear oral arguments?”

“I’m not going to use my mouth to argue a change in tradition. Are you?”

Magnus shook his head. “There are other—much more satisfying—things my tongue could be doing right now.”

Alec licked his lips, nodding, and Magnus wasted no time in sliding his hand under the waistband of Alec’s boxer briefs. He cupped and caressed so gently that Alec arched his hips into Magnus’ hand, desperately seeking more pressure. Magnus slid down the bed, drawing Alec’s briefs off as he moved, then he settled a warm hand around Alec’s balls. He licked a swipe up Alec’s length, sending Alec bowing off the bed, teeth firmly clamped around his bottom lip to stifle a moan.

He dug his fingertips into Magnus’ shoulders, relishing the hard muscles there. His eyes closed for a heartbeat, but he had to see Magnus’ lips stretched around his cock. Those gold-green eyes locked onto his own, holding Alec’s with an intensity that amplified the hot, wet suction of his mouth, and Alec was lost.

They’d only been at this for seconds. He was going to come down Magnus’ throat like a fucking teenager.

“Fuck!” Alec groaned, but couldn’t resist the urge to drive deeper in Magnus’ willing mouth.

Magnus took all of him in, setting a pace that had Alec grasping for a hold on Magnus’ hair. Magnus’ stubble scraped against his thighs. Fingernails lightly dragged against the skin behind his balls, then spread his ass cheeks to add a point of pressure to his hole.

Alec moaned, panted, tried to hold back the fire licking through his veins. Magnus’ finger was a light touch against his ass, and his lips were lifted in a smirk as he popped off and swirled his tongue around the head of Alec’s cock.

Those eyes, that mouth, those hands…. Everything Magnus drove him to the edge of restraint and sanity.

Magnus pressed his hips into the sheets and against Alec’s leg as he sucked Alec off, foreskin tantalizingly sliding up and over the head, hopefully giving him just enough friction to chase his own release since Alec couldn’t reach all the parts he desperately wanted to.

Magnus took his own cock in hand, stroking with the movement of his lips until his back arched and warmth splashed over Alec’s leg and onto the sheets. Magnus groaned, low and deep, the vibrations sending shockwaves radiating through Alec’s body. There was no way Alec could hold out one more second. He thrust into deep Magnus’ mouth, his own release surging through him, with Magnus swallowing down all Alec could give him.

“I fucking love superstitions,” Alec rasped.

Magnus laughed as he licked the last bead of come off Alec’s dick, then placed a soft kiss on his hip. “Some more than others.”

Magnus worked his way up Alec’s torso with barely-there kisses that heated Alec’s sensitive skin. “Go ahead and take the first shower. I’ll get these sheets in the wash.”

Alec smoothed Magnus’ hair away from his face. His hands were shaking as the reverberation of sated aftershocks rolled through him. “Kiss me first?”

He was beginning to think that he may have enjoyed the meeting of their mouths more than any sex—though he was happy to test that theory over and over again until he came to a definitive conclusion. Or came definitively. Either would work.

He reveled in the slickness of Magnus’ tongue against his, of his own taste and scent on Magnus’ lips. In the care and adoration that was just as strong as the thought-erasing passion they’d just shared.

Magnus hummed, low and deep, as he nipped at Alec’s bottom lip. “Kissing you is both a sinful indulgence and a heavenly gift.”

Alec’s heart sped. “Me too. I mean kissing you, not _me_ — I love kissing you too.”

His cheeks were absolutely on fire now, and that had nothing to do with the incredible orgasm he’d just had. Magnus merely smirked, ran his fingertip over Alec’s cheekbone—as if he was admiring the crimson stain—then climbed out of bed without comment.

Alec rolled off the bed after Magnus, not bothering with his sweats since he hadn’t heard Max come back in.

Determined to gain the upper hand again, he swatted Magnus’ ass, earning a surprised yelp and smile, then wrapped an arm around Magnus’ waist and placed a kiss on his shoulder. “I look forward to seeing what we else we can try tonight.”

Magnus reached back and grabbed his hip. “Your infamous list, I presume?”

Alec trailed his lips over the spot on Magnus’ neck that made his knees go weak. “There are too many places on your body that my hands and tongue haven’t…appreciated enough yet.”

Magnus’ fingers dug into his hip, and his eyes closed on a hitched breath. “ _Fuck_.”

Alec’s victorious laughter trailed behind him as he shuffled his way into the bathroom.

The shower was scandalously extravagant—so much better than the one Alec had in his own place. The tub was larger than a standard size, the showerheads a blatant dismissal of New York City plumbing codes, and shelves brimming with bottles and canisters that Alec had no idea what they were used for. He smiled as he gripped the familiar bar of soap—the same one that sat in his own shower, next to the one bottle of shampoo Alec used every day—and started to wash away the tension from the last twenty-four hours.

He was still processing the fact that Magnus had ordered a second set of keys for his apartment, but then had given Alec the opening to walk away. Promising that he would protect Alec as his agent even if Alec didn’t want to be his boyfriend anymore….

No. Not a boyfriend. Neither of them had said that word out loud before.

What were they exactly?

They hadn’t talked about labeling what this was, and defining _them_ felt like the least of considerations at this point. Alec slicked the last of the shampoo out of his hair and shut off the water. His shoulders weren’t nearly as tight anymore, and his body was humming from the steam encasing his skin and the echoes of Magnus’ lips and hands on him. But there was a heaviness sitting in his gut that he hadn’t been able to wash away. Maybe it was time to put a name to who they were together. Maybe that would bring him peace.

When he stepped out of the shower Magnus was leaning against the counter—a towel in his hands and a gentle smile on his lips.

Alec froze with one foot on the rug and one still in the tub as he drank in every inch of Magnus. He was soft this morning, completely open and unguarded. Magnus was beautiful, and Magnus was _his_. There was no label that could encompass everything this man was, or could be, to him. Definitions could wait. Just being together was all that mattered for now.

Alec stepped out of the tub and accepted the towel, scrubbing the water out of his hair instead of wrapping it immediately around his hips. “I didn’t even hear you come in. You should’ve joined me.”

Magnus’ gaze lingered blatantly south of Alec’s eyes as Alec toweled himself dry. “That would have put you completely off schedule.”

“What time is it anyway? I have to be to the rink by nine.”

Magnus’ eyes snapped back up, a smirk spreading across his lips. “Just after seven thirty. Max texted that he’s on his way back. You have plenty of time for breakfast.” Magnus placed a polish-tipped finger on his pair of golden scissors and pushed them across the counter toward Alec. “And to get your beard in order.”

Alec wrapped the towel around his waist and considered the scissors. He leaned a hip against the counter and picked them up. “Would you do it for me?”

Magnus’ eyes widened just a touch, and Alec realized he was on the verge of breaking yet another superstition. No one was allowed to touch his playoff beard except him.

Magnus accepted the scissors. “You’re sure?”

Alec nodded. “Completely.”

“Bane’s LGTBQ Barber Shop is open for business then,” Magnus said with a smile, settling between Alec’s legs. “We take only the elitist of clients. You were lucky to get an appointment.”

Alec restrained a grin and let Magnus get to work. Magnus’ eyebrows drew together in concentration and his tongue rested at the corner of his mouth. The only sound was the precise swish of scissors—a pair that likely cost more than one of Alec’s customized hockey sticks.

Alec tried to let the silence sit, but he couldn’t push past the knotting of his stomach. It wasn’t defining anything with Magnus that was leaving him unsettled. Even though both of them had skated around making anything formal between them because of Imogen, Alec knew Magnus felt just as strongly for Alec as Alec did for him.

It was what they hadn’t talked about last night that was eating at him.

He circled his hand around Magnus’ wrist to still him. “Do we need to talk about Sebastian?”

Magnus’ jaw clenched at the name and he set down the scissors. “We do.”

“How hard do you think he’s going to come at me?”

“I don’t know. And not knowing is—”

“Nerve-wracking.”

Magnus nodded and drew back so he could look Alec in the eye. “Still, nothing has really changed. I don’t want to cower in fear because of a threat that may never come.”

Alec frowned. There was a gnawing sense in his gut of something he was missing. Something that was _off_.

Magnus drew his eyebrows together as he studied Alec. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I feel like we’re missing something that we shouldn’t be.”

Magnus hesitated for a moment. “I feel it too…. Unsteady, I suppose. You think we’re missing an easy solution?”

“Maybe. Or a threat from somewhere we’re not looking.”

“We can’t fight what we can’t see. We have lives to lead, and we’re doing everything we can.”

Alec’s frown deepened.

“Hey.” Magnus tipped his chin up. “Tell me what you’re thinking. I don’t want to assume we’re of like minds on this if we’re not.”

Alec laughed nervously. Tried to push his worry away. There was a hell of a lot that wasn’t right, but _they_ were.

“Yeah, of course we’re on the same page. I just wish our circumstances were different.”

“Your brother reminded me last night that it won’t always be this way for us. When it’s just us…. I’ve never been steadier.”

Magnus let that declaration pass by as if it didn’t deserve comment. As if it was something he’d been saying out loud for years. As if it didn’t make Alec fall in love with him even more.

But before Alec could even think about how to respond, Magnus had resettled between his legs and picked up the scissors. “Hold still. I don’t want to mar that perfect face.”

He wanted to kiss Magnus again, but being this close to him—reveling in his body pressed up against his own—was almost as good. Almost.

“It’s not perfect. I have all kinds of scars from playing.”

“That look only ups your danger factor, my deliciously hirsute warrior.”

Alec grinned and chased his impulses, leaning forward to kiss Magnus, his tension instantly dissipating with the touch of Magnus’ lips to his.

What he’d intended to be a chaste kiss quickly unraveled into a tangled mess of lips, tongue and harsh breaths as the scissors clattered to the counter in favor of Magnus’ fingers curling into his chest hair.

When he was on the verge of losing his towel as well as any sense of the responsibilities he had to fulfill today, Alec pulled back. He licked his lips and tried to catch his breath. “Sorry. I had to kiss you.”

“Never apologize for that.” Magnus lifted the scissors. “Is it safe for me to wield these again?”

Alec smirked. “I’ll behave.”

Magnus finished quickly, then used another towel to swipe the stray hairs off Alec’s skin. But he didn’t move from his spot between Alec’s thighs. “How do you feel about tonight’s game?”

“Same as any other. I view every game as a must-win situation.”

“And in the situations when you do lose?”

The PR ready answer to that was on the tip of his tongue—drilled into him at an early age, along with the appropriate facial expressions to convey the point that he was disappointed but not broken. The truth was something else, but he could admit this much to Magnus. “I’m tough on myself.”

“You carry the weight of leadership with the respect it deserves.”

“I’m not a leader. Jace is our captain.”

“He is. But you shouldn’t discount that your leadership has also guided the Angels to this point.”

“Magnus—”

 _I love you_ , he wanted to say.

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “Yes, Alexander?”

Alec ran a hand over his beard. It was longer than he usually would have left it, but that made his beard softer—and much more friendly for the expanse of Magnus’ skin he wanted to rub it on tonight.

“I like this new pre-game routine.”

“I find myself growing melancholy at the thought of you shaving this off at the end of the playoffs.” Magnus’ fingers trailed over the line of Alec’s jaw, his lips curving up. “But we do still have two more rounds to make it through before that happens.”

With anyone else, Alec’s reply was an automatic chastisement for discussing a future that had the Angels going to the championship series.

But with Magnus, Alec could think about months from now just as easily as today, and have hope for the future.

“We do.”

 

****

 

The one hour Magnus had been awake this morning was possibly the most domestic hour he’d experienced in entirety of his thirty-five years. Lazy morning sex, doing laundry, grooming Alec, and now breakfast with his boyfriend’s little brother. Magnus unpacked the to-go bags Max had brought back with him and laid the contents in the center of the table, then set out the silverware and plates as Max filled their cups with coffee.

Alec brushed past him, his fingertips grazing across the small of Magnus’ back—an intoxicating touch of familiarity—as he sank into a seat at the table.

Yes, it was a perfectly domestic Saturday.

Alec straightened the edge of one bag to peer at the label and grinned at his brother. “So…how’s Maia?”

Magnus lifted his eyes just in time to catch the hints of a blush on Max’s cheeks before he was rolling his eyes at his brother.

Magnus looked to Alec for clarification. “And who might Maia be?”

“She owns the building where Max has his workshop,” Alec explained. “You know, above that restaurant we went to the night before I went on the road for the Devils’ series? She’s also the head chef of the restaurant.”

Magnus picked up what looked like a butter-laden flaky biscuit, but when he bit into it, the layers were cinnamon, and sugar, and _oh my god_. This was what heaven tasted like. He kept his eyes from rolling back into his skull. Barely. “As Beyoncé would say, ‘God is real.’”

“And her name is Maia, if Max has anything to say about it,” Alec taunted. “She opened up the kitchen to you again, huh?”

“It’s the Lightwood charm.” Max shrugged as he dropped into the seat across from Magnus and next to his brother. “Magnus knows what I’m talking about.”

“Perhaps,” Magnus allowed, and smothered his smile with another bite of the heavenly breakfast pastry.

Alec gave a lop-sided grin as he held out a tray for Magnus, silently asking if he wanted some of the quiche. Magnus nodded and Alec dished food onto his plate, his attention going back to Max. “You haven’t been at your apartment as much lately. Been spending all that time at your workshop instead?”

“Yeop,” Max popped out.

Alec lifted a brow. “And you’re not taking any classes over the summer?”

“Nope.”

Alec’s brow stitched together in frustration. “So?”

“What?”

“So is it your start up, or something else keeping you busy?”

Max cackled. “Trying to get me to admit to something with Maia, big brother?”

“Max. I’m not—” Alec leaned forward, sighing. “You said last night that you and Magnus were both doing the same thing—in different ways—to protect me. Now I know what he was doing. You gotta talk to me. It’s not just the apartment next door, is it?”

Max’s features dropped as he glanced at Magnus. Apparently the seriousness of the question wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

Alec caught the shared glance and looked to Magnus. “You know what it is?”

Magnus was grateful for telling Izzy he didn’t want to know so he could answer this honestly. “I don’t. Neither Isabelle nor Max have shared any details with me.”

“Izzy too?” Alec swiped a hand over his beard, lips tugging into a frown. “Shit, Max.”

“Don’t ask either one of us to stop. Because we won’t,” Max said unapologetically. “You just have to trust me. I really don’t want to lie to you.”

Magnus sat back in his chair and waited to see how the brothers would break this standoff.

Alec seemed to be considering Max’s words. He sighed again and set down his fork. To anyone else he might have appeared resigned, but Magnus saw a flash of playfulness in his eyes.

“Fine. If you won’t lie to me, then tell me about what’s going on with you and Maia.”

Apparently Alec was going to let the topic of Max and Izzy’s unsolicited protection of him go.

“And you think _I’m_ being sneaky, dude,” Max chided with a laugh.

Alec just shrugged and went back to eating.

Max leaned back in his chair and winked at Magnus. “We’re definitely not doing anything like what you and Magnus were doing when I went to get breakfast this morning.”

Alec coughed and sputtered around the bite he’d just taken, deep crimson staining his cheeks.

“Busted,” Max sing-songed gleefully. “For Magnus’ sake I hope your gag reflex isn’t always so sensitive.”

Magnus could only shake his head at Max. “For your brother’s sake you should feign that a line of propriety exists.”

Max smirked. “What fun would that be?”

Alec swigged the last of his coffee and pushed back from the table. “I gotta go. And not just because of…you.”

“Just think,” Max said, spearing a tomato, “we can do this every Saturday morning with me living next door.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Great.” He shouldered his duffel then paused in the entryway, scowling. “Shit. My suitcase. I don’t want to drag that all the way to the arena.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Max said around bites. “I’ll take it by your apartment when I go to the game.”

Alec glared at the suitcase as if he was offended by it.

Magnus bit down on the instinct to ask Alec right then and there to just move in with him already. He’d have to start with an invitation for more nights like last night, then maybe an invitation to use the second set of keys he’d thought he wouldn’t need. He’d call Danny and make sure they were available for him to give to Alec—if he wanted them.

“Or you can just leave it here,” Magnus tested. “If you think you’ll be back after the game.”

Alec scratched at his beard, then turned to Magnus. “I’d like that.”

Max groaned. Loudly. “Then that means I have to come back here tonight too.”

Magnus expected a sarcastic response to Max’s petulance, but instead Alec dug into his wallet and tossed a card onto the table. “Take my credit card. There’s no sense in you moving everything from your apartment when we don’t know how long this will last. Get what you need and have it delivered.”

Max’s features clouded. “No fucking way—”

“It’s only money, Max. What you did is worth more than anything you can buy with that card.”

The patented Max-smirk was back in full effect in a heartbeat. “I bet if I take Magnus and Izzy shopping with me that we could test the limits of that theory.”

Magnus shook his head in dismay. “I don’t think me being seen with you—”

But Alec had other ideas. “You said it yourself, Magnus—we can’t stop living our lives. Go. Have fun. I trust all three of you.” He smacked his brother on the back of the head, then leaned down to plant a goodbye kiss on Magnus’ lips. “See you after the game tonight.”

Magnus hooked his fingers into the collar of Alec’s tee and dragged him down to kiss him again—just because he could.

“After the game,” Alec repeated as he adjusted the strap on his bag. “I’ll see you here.”

Magnus watched the door shut behind Alec, then faced Max.

Whatever lightness had been on Max’s face only a second ago had been transitory.

Magnus furrowed his brow in confusion. “Max?”

“Going to interrogate me now about what Izzy and I are doing?” he snapped. “Or warn me off?”

Magnus shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good. I’ll call Isabelle and see if she can meet us at the furniture store on Main.”

Max’s shoulders slumped and his eyes kept flicking to the door. “Yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

It wasn’t often that Max didn’t appear to have complete control over every piece of his environment, but in the moment he looked…lost.

Magnus had a pretty good idea of where that uncertainty was coming from.

“We’ll take care of him.”

Max relaxed at that, a smile inching up his lips as he looked at Magnus. “Some of us in very different ways than others.”

Magnus could only smirk back.

 

****

 

Alec knocked on the door to the office next to the zamboni room, self-consciously twirling the package in his hands. As soon as Simon opened the door, Alec handed the vintage mint-in-box Voltron over to his brother-in-law. “Since you took it out and we lost…. I figured I owed you one that you can keep in the box.”

Simon’s eyes widened, a massive grin lighting up his face. “Wow. Thank you, Alec.”

The cost of that toy and the shipping from some dealer in Japan had been excessive, but the uninhibited joy on Simon’s face was worth it. Maybe Alec was beginning to see why his sister loved this goof as much as she did.

Alec rocked back on his heels, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You, uh, have time? To talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” Simon stepped back from door. “Come on in and take a seat. You want coffee?”

“I had a cup at Magnus’ this morning. One’s my limit on game days.” He dropped into the threadbare sofa, sinking into the cushions. He had only a few minutes of peace before he started his pre-game rituals. “But I’ll take a water if you have it.”

Simon dug through the mini-fridge and tossed a bottle of water to Alec. “Spent the night at Magnus’?”

“Not like that,” he said without thinking, then realized he didn’t have to hide anything from his brother-in-law. He uncapped the water and took a swig. “Well kind of…like that. Anyway, Max was there too.”

“Oh yeah?” Simon tried to feign ignorance, but Alec could tell he’d known. “What’s he been up to?”

“Either work, someone he’s dating, or…something else, couldn’t tell you which. How are you?”

Simon nodded and pursed his lips before he answered. “Izzy’s good. Busy, as I’m sure you know, but good—”

“No. You, Si,” Alec interrupted. “How are _you_?”

Simon’s head snapped up with surprise. He sat down on the couch next to Alec, grinning. “Um, there’s a new song I’ve been working on. Not a cover song, something original. It’s nothing special, but I like where it’s going and the other guys in the band seem to be getting the hang of it, and maybe we’ll play it at our next gig. I don’t know. You can hear it then, or before then, or whenever you have time. You know, if you want. Or if you’re around and not traveling, or whatever….”

Alec restrained a laugh at Simon’s seemingly unending stash of oxygen. “I’d like to hear it whenever you’re ready to share.”

Simon beamed. “Cool—” There was a knock on the door, and Simon held up a finger. “Hang on. I ordered a part and it’s supposed to be delivered today.”

Simon pulled the door open and Alec’s face fell.

Simon shifted nervously when he caught eyes with the man standing in front of him. “Mr. Lightwood. Hi.”

Robert’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Simon barked out a laugh, glancing between Alec and Robert, the light-hearted sound of his laughter drifting away as he seemed to realize that Alec’s dad wasn’t joking.

“I’m, uh”—Simon pushed his glasses up his nose—“I’m married to your daughter?”

“Right.” Robert peered around Simon. “Alexander.”

If his father’s unscheduled appearance at his workplace wasn’t enough to set him on edge, then his full name—an echo of years he tried to forget—shoved him closer to it. But it was blatantly disrespecting Simon that sent him tumbling toward a free fall of rage.

“It’s Alec.” Alec gritted his teeth. He didn’t stand. “What do you want?”

“Max said he was going to be at the arena this morning. I was hoping to speak with both of you.”

“Why?”

“About how he’s chosen to utilize his finances.”

 _Shit_. The apartment.

Alec sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees and toying with his bracelet as he tried to keep his composure. He should’ve known to ask Max where he was getting the money for the apartment. He should’ve offered to take on the costs himself.

Alec gave a dark laugh and glared at his dad. “You want to cut him off for helping me.”

Robert’s jaw hardened. “Alex—”

“Alec,” he corrected again, this time with the venom he could feel flowing through his veins as he got to his feet. “Go ahead and take away all his money. _I’ve_ got him. He’s not a fucking bargaining chip! He’s your child. My brother.”

Robert held Alec’s gaze, unflinching, for a heartbeat, then looked to Simon. “Could we have a moment…?”

Alec was seething. “Your son-in-law’s name is Simon.”

“Right. Simon. Would you…?” Robert said with complete calm.

Simon gripped the handle of the door tighter, and looked to Alec as if he was trying to ask if it was okay to leave the two of them alone. Alec tipped his chin up to Simon, and Simon nudged his glasses back up his nose again and retreated into the zamboni room.

Alec balled his fists and clenched his jaw to keep any words from spilling out of his mouth—nothing he said right now would be polite. All of these years he’d been playing in the world-renowned home of the New York Blazing Angels and the only two times his parents had stepped foot on the ground here were to attack him. He wouldn’t have another incident with his parents happen at the arena.

Robert stepped into the office, uninvited, and closed the door. “It wasn’t just Max I came to talk to. Your mother and I would like to have dinner with you. In the privacy of our home. Just the three of us.”

Alec barked out a laugh. “Why the fuck would I possibly agree to that?”

Robert winced. “Because we love you, Alex— Alec.”

 _Love_? It had been years since he’d heard anything from his parents, and he was sure both of them seeking him out within weeks of each other had nothing to do with love.

“Are you fucking kidding—”

“I’m not,” Robert growled, a flash of the powerful man who demanded to be respected slipping through. He inhaled sharply through his nose and held out his hands, palms up. “I’m sorry. We do love you, Alec. We miss you. Please. Just come to the house.”

Alec hung his head. His mother had immediately launched into a tirade, but his father was attempting a modicum of civility. He and his father had fought more than they’d talked since Alec had chosen hockey over his parents’ shared career path. His forced outing at the hands of his ex had only increased the animosity between them. His father had never once told him that he was proud of anything Alec had accomplished. But Alec wouldn’t know if that had changed unless he gave his parents a chance to say their piece.

“I’ll think about it,” he conceded.

Robert’s shoulders eased. “Good.”

Alec gestured toward the ice. They were only hours away from game time. “Are you staying for the game?”

“I can’t. I have a fundraiser to attend.” Robert reached into his suit pocket and handed Alec a business card. “This is my cell number now.”

Alec took it, pursing his lips as he surveyed the engraved card. It was heavy paper, clearly expensive—befitting a man who cared most about appearances. So much different than the plain stock of cards Alec carried in his own pocket.

Robert looked like he was going to reach out to pat Alec on the shoulder, but at the last second he adjusted the buttons on his jacket instead then stood tall. “Good luck tonight, son.”

“Thanks.”

He towered over his dad in height, and for the first time in his life he understood that his parents were only human beings—neither mythical heroes, nor the image of high-class perfection they brandished like a weapon.

If he decided to have dinner with them, he would be the one in a position of power because he’d lived the life he’d chosen for himself instead of the one they’d tried to force on him.

He met his father’s eyes. “I’ll call you if I can find the time.”

 

****

 

Magnus offered his arm to Catarina as they stepped through the doors into the arena. “And this is the inner sanctum of the New York Blazing Angels’ blessed home. It may be Madison Square Garden by name, but it’s known as the Institute by the fans when the Angels are playing. Apparently, the owner was an academic who lost the love—if not the money—of his family when he decided to dump his inheritance into a beleaguered hockey team in the 1960’s. Or so Alec tells me.”

Catarina was seemingly entranced with the frenetic energy swirling around them. The only thing that fascinated her more than medicine was the study of the intricacies of the human condition. And, in Magnus’ estimation, hockey fans were just like any of the social cause groups Catarina favored—united despite their differences.

“And, of course, you believe everything Alec tells you,” she finally replied.

Magnus scowled. “You sounded rather like Ragnor there.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Catarina said with a laugh. “Well, we’ve spent a lot of time together lately.”

Catarina wasn’t being unkind—it was the truth. Their group hadn’t gathered for their usual breakfast the last two months because of Magnus’ schedule. Or rather, Magnus’ shifting priorities as Alec took up both his work _and_ personal time. Only Ragnor had complained, but Magnus was immune to Ragnor’s cajoling after twenty years of friendship. Catarina hadn’t said a word to him about Alec unless he’d brought up the subject first. But now that the topic had been broached….

Magnus led Catarina toward the elevator for the suites. “You haven’t asked me once if I’m sure about what I’m doing with him.”

“You know what’s best for you. Besides, when have I ever been able to change your mind? You’re just as unstoppable as Alec apparently is on the ice.”

Magnus’ heart leapt into his throat and he stopped in his tracks to envelop Cat in a hug. She squeaked, then surrendered to his sudden, overwhelming need for reassurance—wrapping her arms around him just as tight.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

Magnus shook his head. He wasn’t.

The morning had been perfect, and the afternoon spent shopping with Max and Izzy had been pleasant as well. It had been a terribly _normal_ day by all appearances. Yet underlying his every thought was Alec’s voice—wondering if they were missing something. There were too many pieces in motion and too much they didn’t know for Magnus’ liking. He was a spontaneous person, prone to flitting along with whatever was his newest and shiniest flight of fancy, but underneath that veneer he was a tactician. Detail oriented and apt at reading situations to find the greatest benefit to himself or his clients. Yet he was currently in a situation he couldn’t grasp completely. That gnawing sense of being out of his depth had been there since Sebastian entered his office for the first time, and had only gotten worse.

He _wasn’t_ unstoppable, but he had to be if he and Alec were going to make it through this together.

“I’m nervous about the game,” he responded to Cat.

She patted his back and untangled herself from him. “I appreciate you giving me a partial truth instead of a full lie.”

Magnus placed a kiss on her forehead, then looked up and realized they’d stopped directly in front of the secured entrance leading down to the players’ level.

“I wish I could take you down so you could meet him.”

Catarina wrapped her arm around his waist. “Me too, Magnus.”

Then another arm was sliding along his shoulder, lips pressing to his cheek as Izzy greeted him. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Magnus returned the kiss to her cheek. “Catarina, this is Isabelle—Alexander’s younger sister.”

Catarina extended her hand. “Please call me Cat.”

Izzy took both of Catarina’s between hers and smiled. “Izzy.”

Magnus’ stomach fluttered as he realized this was the meeting of two worlds—merging his life and Alec’s even further. There would never be a moment when his mother shook hands with Alec’s. Even if his mother had been alive, he didn’t think Maryse Lightwood would be welcoming of the Bane family.

His Catarina meeting Alec’s Isabelle meant even more, though. Alec may not have been an orphan, but his estrangement from his mother had been tempered by the selfless acceptance Izzy brought to his life. Catarina was the same equalizing force for him. Neither woman had attempted to take on the role of replacing what he or Alec had lost, yet both of them lived an edict of unconditional love that made the hollow spaces in his and Alec’s hearts seem much less empty.

Magnus paused to appreciate how calm he was sandwiched in between these two strong and giving women, then stepped back to survey the playoff outfit Izzy had chosen for the night.

He couldn’t hold back his laughter. “You must tell me, sunshine, where did you get that shirt?”

Izzy tugged at the hem, giving he and Catarina a full view of the image—a picture of Alec in full playoff beard with his eyes closed, a Photoshopped mane of long hair, a crown of thorns on his head, and the caption _Lightwood Saves_.

“It’s a side venture by my dear younger brother,” Izzy explained. “He has a bunch of his college friends out front selling them.”

“Completely sacrilegious,” Catarina said with a tinge of awe. “I need one.”

Of course Max was the villain behind this. It didn’t pass him by that Max and Ragnor would be their own force to be reckoned with once they were introduced. If the t-shirt came in green, then Magnus would have to pick one up for his cantankerous best friend. But he had no doubt they would likely sell out before he could get his hands on one for himself, let alone Cat and Ragnor.

Magnus searched the concourse behind Izzy. “And where is our beloved Max?”

“Already down with Simon and Clary.” Izzy’s smile faded. “Imogen asked me to come up and talk to her about the press conference after the game.”

And just like that all of the calm Magnus had felt only moments ago completely dissipated. “Are you preparing for questions about Jace or Alec?”

“We announced Jace’s shift to IE a few hours ago. There may or may not be questions because of TE&A….”

“And?” Magnus asked

Izzy didn’t glance at Catarina. She was much too polished of a professional to have such simple tells. But Magnus knew why she wasn’t answering.

“It’s okay. I trust Cat with my life.”

Izzy flicked her hair off her shoulder and took a step closer to them, leaning in. “Imogen let me know that she ran into Sebastian Morgenstern on the suite level. He’s at tonight’s game.”

 

****

 

Alec placed his bracelet in his bag next to his cell and turned to Jace. “Any distractions tonight?”

Jace chuckled lowly and shook his head. “My mind is clear.”

“In other words, you got laid.”

“I don’t kiss and tell, bro.”

Alec rolled his eyes. When Jace’s hook-ups lasted one night, he held nothing back. But when he wanted more, Jace became surprisingly closed-mouthed about his sex life. Clearly, Jace was somewhere in between one night and a commitment with either Clary or Lydia. Alec was curious which one, but it was clear from Jace’s dimples that whoever it was, Jace was happy.

“I call bullshit, Jace,” Alec teased. “The only time you don’t kiss and tell is when it’s mind-blowingly good _and_ has a chance of going somewhere. Otherwise, you can’t keep your innuendo-laden, pornographic mouth shut.”

Jace smirked in response. “Any distractions on your end?”

Alec surveyed the locker room. Spirits were high with the entire team. Raphael and Emil were bickering over the Bluetooth speaker, fighting for their individual pump-up songs. Meliorn was in the corner leading the defensemen through a sun salutation that was highly modified because of their gear—and the cackling they couldn’t seem to contain. Bat was even smiling as he wound the tape around his stick in a pre-game ritual that always dragged on until the last possible second. The stench of stale hockey equipment, fresh sweat, and the bite of ice flowing down the tunnel assaulted his nose.

Magnus was back in the arena again. Definitely not under ideal circumstances, but he was here. And seeing his father would be of no consequence to how he’d play tonight. “I’m not happy about…the suite, but we—he and I…? We’re good.”

Jace smacked a hand to Alec’s beard in their usual pre-game tradition and scratched playfully. “I can tell. This isn’t hacked away like you've taken rusty garden shears to it. Somebody with a sense of style and graceful fingers did that.”

Alec was spared from coming up with a response that didn’t leave him a blushing mess when Garroway stomped into the locker room.

“Alright, gentlemen. Let’s bring it in. Five minutes ’til ice time.”

The music immediately cut off and the team fell silent.

Garroway planted himself in his traditional spot in the center of the room, arms crossed. He was an intimidating man, and even more so when he wore his alpha persona like a second skin. “A few of you have made it to the second round before, and some even past that. But we, as a team, haven’t been here before. You’ve earned this game. I know you belong here and so do you—so let’s go to work. When we dictate the pace of the game—together, as a team—we win. It’s that simple.” He paused, set his hands on his hips and surveyed the room. “Any guesses on who’s leading us onto the ice tonight?”

“If it’s Lightwood again, I’m calling teacher’s pet,” Bat called out.

Alec shook his head and looked to his coach. “Not me. It’s Meliorn.”

Garroway’s eyes snapped to his. “You think so, Lightwood?”

“He deserves it, Coach. And not just for giving us the game-winning goal in Pittsburgh. He may have come along later, but he’s one of us. Not just as an Angel, he’s an important piece of the first line.” That fifth spot on the starting line had been rotated around for too long. He wasn’t the only who believed that—but he was one of the few players Garroway sought out when he wanted a different perspective. Alec took a deep breath and looked around the locker room at his teammates. “Jay Meliorn calms Jace’s impetuousness, matches Raphael’s wit and speed, reads Emil’s defensive strategy without a word said between them, and he hits just as hard as Bat. He isn’t a traditional winger, but there’s little about the Angels that is traditional.”

Garroway raised an eyebrow. Alec wasn’t afraid to give Garroway his opinion on any player, but he never shared his thoughts in front of other team members.

Garroway kept his eyes locked on Alec’s as he asked, “Anyone disagree with that?”

He heard the echo of Magnus’ words in his head as Garroway waited for anyone to challenge that thought. _…you shouldn’t discount that your leadership has also guided the Angels to this point._

In the corner of his eye he caught a serene smile on Meliorn’s face.

“Our tender is right—about all of it. The ink is barely dry on the contract, but Meliorn _is_ one of us. Welcome officially to the starting line of the Angels,” Garroway said to Jay. “Line it up behind Meliorn, gentlemen.”

Alec took a deep breath and picked up his mask. Before he could put it on, Meliorn was at his side.

He patted Alec’s cheek just like every other player had done tonight. “Did somebody else clean up your beard for you this morning, Lightwood? It’s a bit more…pristine than usual.”

Jace let out a soft laugh as he got to his feet.

Alec thought about settling his mask over his head to hide the blush that had to be crawling up his neck, but he didn’t.

There was none of the fear that usually came with skirting around the gender of the person he’d spent the night with. But maybe, like Jace would be when he made his decision, he wanted to talk about it because he was committed.

“You’re part of the first line now,” he said to Meliorn. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

 

****

 

Magnus settled himself into his well-worn veneer of a man who was confident and dismissive of anything or anyone that wasn’t invited into his personal space. What he felt on the inside was decidedly different.

Imogen had been explicit about not showing up with a Lightwood at his side. So he’d lingered at the bar outside the suite—despite, or maybe because of, the risk of running into Morgenstern—giving Izzy time to talk to Imogen and make her way downstairs again before entering. Catarina sat beside him, filling Magnus’ uncharacteristic lack of conversational skills with stories about her adventures in the hospital. She knew him well enough that if he had only his thoughts and the sounds of the arena to listen to, he would lose it.

Catarina waved for the bartender, ordering another glass of cabernet, then eyed Magnus’ nearly full glass.

He resisted the urge to down his drink, waved off a refill, and took another gentile sip. It was possible he wouldn’t finish this _one_ drink by the end of the game. His mind had to be sharp.

He glanced up at the TV over the bar. The arena had gone dark. “They’re about to start. Let’s go inside.”

Catarina refused his offer to pay the bill, then reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the tube of lip gloss he always carried with him.

“Sometimes makeup is fun….”

Magnus finished their adage, familiar after years of friendship through hard times. “…Other times it’s armor.”

“You always look fabulous while in battle,” she said as she straightened his lapels. “And, as Izzy said, you are gorgeous tonight.”

Magnus accepted the tube of gloss and kissed her on the cheek before applying a fresh coat. “Thank you for being here with me.”

Catarina looped her arm in his, and Magnus self-consciously brushed his lips together as he pushed through the door to the new IE suite. The Angels were just taking to the ice, the floor under his feet rattling with the music and shouts of a sold-out crowd twenty-thousand strong. Magnus remained near the door while introductions rumbled through the sound system, his heart skipping a beat at the thunderous applause that greeted Alec’s entrance onto the ice.

Then the lights went up and Magnus had only seconds to prepare as Imogen marched toward him through the other guests. There was a woman at her side that Magnus thought he recognized from his research on the Angels’ front office staff—as well as from the New York gossip pages. He took in her brusque demeanor, straight spine…. She was a pretty woman, but she didn’t rely on her looks—her entire affect demanded respect.

Yes, she was most definitely the woman who was well known as the child of immigrant parents who’d made her mark on the city as a tough advocate for inner city children, with even tougher work ethic that propelled everything she touched to success.

Imogen gestured toward him as she approached. “Magnus, have you met Susanna Vargas? It hasn’t been publicly announced, but the current general manager will be retiring and she’ll be taking over as the GM for the Angels after this season. Susanna, this is Magnus Bane—agent for both Jace Wayland and Alec Lightwood.”

Magnus shook Susanna’s outstretched hand. “If I’m not mistaken, that will make you the first female GM in the league, Ms. Vargas.”

“That’s correct. Please, call me Susanna.”

“Congratulations. It’s good to see a philanthropically-minded, lifelong resident of this city taking the reins of our home team.”

Susanna tipped her head, the hint of a smile breaking through her calculated façade. “Thank you.”

“Imogen and Susanna, please allow me to introduce you to Catarina Loss. Catarina leads the neighborhoods’ initiative for one of the hospital systems that covers the areas within the Angels’ main fanbase.” Magnus squeezed Cat’s hand, hoping she would understand that Magnus needed to talk to Imogen alone. “With the Angels’ push for childhood health initiatives, the two of you may have some common ground, Susanna.”

“I’d love to talk about how we could possibly partner if you have a moment,” Catarina offered without missing a step.

Susanna gestured to the bar. “Why don’t you join me for a drink and we’ll talk. Imogen, thank you for your hospitality.”

Imogen gave a curt nod to Susanna, then waited until they were out of earshot to face Magnus. Her lips were a thin line. Her eyes harsh. “Would you care to explain how Alec was photographed entering your apartment building?”

Magnus restrained the urge to down his drink. “I see we’re getting to the heart of my summoning immediately, then.”

The fans below them burst into a boisterous roar and Magnus’s gaze flicked to the ice—the Angels were making a strong offensive push to the Penguins’ net.

Magnus felt Imogen’s gaze practically drilling through the side of his head as he kept his attention locked to the game. The goal horn blared and the arena erupted in cheers. Minutes into the first period and the Angels were already up zero to one.

Once the celebration had lulled to a dull roar, Magnus answered. “Alec was helping his brother find a new place to live. If you remember, I was in Texas with you the night he was photographed there.”

“I know you were,” Imogen snapped. “What I meant was—who took that picture? Was it a planned PR stunt, or someone else?”

It was likely that Imogen had already asked that question of Izzy. Luckily, Magnus would have the same answer and there’d be no reason for creative truths.

“There’s no proof it was Morgenstern’s doing, but the modus operandi reeks of his distasteful style.”

Imogen’s lip twitched. She was restrained fury. “And do you know why he’s here tonight?”

Magnus took another sip of his drink to fortify his courage against a woman who looked like she was about to tear him to pieces. “Not specifically. But it’s likely to rattle me, and possibly Alec.”

“Are you rattled?”

He could’ve lied, but he hadn’t yet been forced to with Imogen. He’d avoid that as long as he could.

“Yes.”

“And Alec?”

“He doesn’t know Morgenstern is here, but that doesn’t matter. He’s scared of being outed before he’s ready, and not solely because of the potential repercussions to his contract.” Magnus met her eyes. “This is his life, Imogen.”

“We can’t allow this to continue.” Imogen’s fingers reached up to adjust the IE pin on her lapel, then her hands balled into fists. “We’re responsible for him.”

 _Oh_.

She wasn’t angry at Magnus.

She was worried about Alec….

“He knows we’re doing everything we can.”

“What _more_ could we be doing to—” Imogen’s eyes snapped up to something behind Magnus. Her cheekbones sharpened with callous resolve as she glared over Magnus’ shoulder. “Mr. Morgenstern. I believe you may have wandered into the wrong suite.”

The ice in Magnus’ drink clinked erratically at the automatic shaking of his hands. He took a deep breath, soaking up the rage pouring off Imogen—letting it feed his own fury and thrum through his own veins.

Magnus slicked his lips together, then took another sip of whiskey. With a fire scorching down his throat and the steady burn of anger in his veins, he turned to face Sebastian.

Sebastian grinned as he met Magnus’ eyes. “I’m quite sure I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

 

****

 

Alec kept this gaze from drifting up to the suite where Magnus was watching the game with Catarina, regretting that he hadn’t been able to keep Magnus from having to play along with Imogen’s stipulations. He wondered if this was how Izzy had felt every time she’d set him up with another PR girlfriend.

Alec shook off his unease and reminded himself that Magnus didn’t agree with this strategy, but he understood the importance of it. They could hope the world wouldn’t be a cruel place, but they both knew it was and that they needed to protect themselves as much as they could.

Magnus was here to support him. Catarina was Magnus’ friend. It was similar to the relationship he and Lydia had shared since the season had started. He regretted that Magnus had to reduce himself to playing a part tonight instead of being allowed to be all of the stunning man he was. He wouldn’t let that regret be a distraction, though.

They had time to do this right and to protect each other in the process.

They had time for the people they cared about to get to know them as a couple.

If they won tonight’s game, the team would likely have the day off tomorrow—and Alec could spend all of it in Magnus’ bed.

No.

 _When_ they won tonight, he and Magnus would have time to be together, just the two of them.

“It’s just you and me for the next forty-eight minutes,” Alec said to the net as he brushed his mitt against the post. “Then it’s back home to my first love.”

 

****

 

Magnus’ teeth were going to be ground into rubble by the time the game ended.

Sebastian had lingered in the IE suite for over two full periods, mingling with guests and helping himself to drinks from the bar before finally dropping into a seat next to Magnus and Imogen.

On the floor of the arena, Jace pumped gloved hands in the air as he whipped down the ice in celebration of the Angels’ third goal of the night.

Sebastian swirled his wine glass as if he was in a five star restaurant instead of a sporting event. “It appears you’ve managed to recruit the highest caliber of talent, Imogen.”

“Mrs. Herondale,” Imogen corrected icily.

Sebastian’s features clouded over for only a second. “Have I overstayed my welcome?”

Imogen leveled him with a withering stare. “That would imply an invitation had been extended in the first place, but basic professional etiquette doesn’t seem to be a concern of yours, Mr. Morgenstern.”

Sebastian chuckled. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

Magnus ground his teeth farther down and refused to cede any territory to Morgenstern as he proceeded to attempt a manspreading of testosterone-drowning proportions.

Disregarding the pathetic play for power happening beside him, Magnus refocused his attention on the ice again as Freeman, the Penguins’ star center, scooped up the puck and headed toward Alec on a breakaway.

Alec was focused and completely unstoppable so far tonight, yet Magnus still held his breath as Santiago caught up to Freeman. Santiago swung both his stick and body against Freeman’s, trying to dislodge the puck and Freeman from their forward trajectory. In the battle for possession, Freeman and Santiago tangled with each other mere feet in front of the net, their skates slipping out beneath them, joined at the last second by a Penguins’ winger hacking away at Alec’s stick as they all skidded together into a crash. The net flew off with the impact of the four players, but not before the puck had already crossed the goal line. The lamp behind Alec lit up, signaling a point for the Penguins.

Magnus sagged into his seat. The Penguins had brought the Angels’ lead down to two points, and there was nearly a full period of play left to go. But the closing point gap didn’t matter nearly as much as the sudden and chaotic end to Alec’s hard-earned streak of shutouts.

Boos burst out immediately, accompanied by chants of goalie interference. Magnus’ gaze dropped from the scoreboard back to the ice, fists clenched and shaking.

His heart thundered in his chest as he waited for Alec to get back up.

The refs circled the ice to convene, and Magnus watched as Jace flung off his gloves then proceeded to pound into the winger who had slammed into Alec. More gloves were thrown down in rapid succession and the rink abruptly evolved into a mass of players descending on the Angels’ defensive zone. The refs quickly shifted their attention to keeping the melee from escalating into a full out brawl.

Through the mass of limbs, Magnus finally spotted Alec’s massive frame getting back on his skates. He allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief when Alec waved Kadir, the Angels’ trainer, off the ice.

“Such a violent, uncivilized game,” Sebastian lamented. “It sets such a poor example for conflict resolution.”

Magnus couldn’t exactly disagree. Normally, he regarded physically aggressive behavior as both distasteful and unnecessary, but right now he was enjoying particularly vivid visions of palming the back of Morgenstern’s head and bashing it into the seat in front of him.

Fear for Alec’s well-being still thrumming through him, Magnus possessed even less restraint than he normally would. He met Sebastian’s challenge with a particularly flamboyant flourish of his wrist. “Perhaps hockey is just a bit too _stimulating_ for your repressed homoerotic desires?”

Sebastian sneered. He couldn’t get out of this seat fast enough.

“Good evening, Mr. Morgenstern,” Imogen called out.

The minute twitch at the corner of her mouth was the Imogen-equivalent of a belly laugh.

Magnus turned to refocus on the game when he felt a painful grip on his shoulder and the last pair of lips he’d ever wanted near him whispering into his ear.

“Meet me in the main lounge before the end of the third period. We have something we need to discuss.”

 

****

 

Alec’s stomach sank as the Penguins’ goal lit up the scoreboard.

 _Fuck_.

He clamped his eyes shut, shaking his head clear. It was time to focus. The goal eliminated any possibilities for a shutout, but not for a win. It was only one goal against the three the Angels had already scored. One goal to break a streak that really shouldn’t have lasted this long, anyway.

Meliorn skated up to him as Alec tested out his knee. “You okay?”

Alec gave him a clipped nod. He’d be feeling that hit for a day or two, but he wouldn’t need any treatment right now for it. It was his job to shrug off both the hit and the score as soon as possible and keep every single puck the Penguins sent his way out of the net for the remaining fourteen minutes of the game.

“They should have called interference on that one,” Meliorn noted.

Alec grunted. He knew.

Despite being the first player to throw a punch, Jace was already back in control and in a discussion with the refs as they sorted through penalty minutes. Jace would do what he could to talk some sense into the refs about the lack of an interference call, and Alec could only wait it out. He picked up his water bottle that had been sent flying when the net had dislodged, squirted water into his mouth, and tossed the bottle back on top of the net. Too antsy to hold still, he carved circles into the ice by the boards, keeping his muscles and joints warm as he waited for play to restart.

Three shutouts in a row was more than respectable—especially for the playoffs. Those stats were already in the books and couldn’t be changed. Starting a new streak didn’t need to wait until their next game, it started right now.

He checked the net to make sure it was on tight, scuffed his skates through the ice—once, twice—then crouched and backed into the net. Jace lingered by the officials and the Penguins’ captain to listen as they discussed how the game would proceed from here. The rest of the Penguins were gathered around their bench.

Meliorn was still standing next to the net with his gloves piled on top of his stick, skates planted firmly into the ice, unmoving. Alec looked around. Meliorn was the only player not in movement.

Usually Alec hated it when players tried to chat him up during a game, even if there was a lull, but he couldn’t help but break with his own rules when he saw that Meliorn’s eyes were closed.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Meliorn cracked one eye open. “Rebalancing my chi.”

Alec chuckled and shook his head, scanning the faces of the other Angels on the ice.

Bat, Raphael, Emil….

All of them knew Alec was gay and in a relationship. Even though they didn’t know Magnus by name, they supported Alec.

Every time he acknowledged Magnus’ place in his life to someone else, he broke down another one of his walls. He played better. He was happier. He had a good streak going with the three Angels who were skating in front of him….

He hadn’t questioned _if_ he would tell Meliorn, just when. Every on-ice instinct he had told him that game time was about the puck and nothing else, but he was fighting not to be bound by the way he’d always done things.... And Meliorn was anything but traditional.

_Fuck it._

Alec stood up, and pitched his voice so only Meliorn would hear him. “My boyfriend is the one who trimmed my beard this morning. With these ridiculously sharp gold scissors that have to be ludicrously expensive, and I’ve never let anyone else do that, but—” Alec took a breath. _Fuck_. Simon’s rambling was rubbing off on him. “Anyway, only the first line knows about him— About me.” He cleared his throat. “About the two of us.”

Meliorn tipped his head to the side, studying Alec. After a moment, a sly smile spread across his face. “He wields his weapon well.”

Alec ducked his head and laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

When he looked up again, Jace was breaking away from the refs as Garroway stood next to the boards, nodding at the official explaining the final calls.

Jace’s dimples popped out in a shit-eating grin as he skated toward them.

“Is your boyfriend attending the game?” Meliorn asked.

“Yeah, he is. He’s in that suite—” Alec lifted his blocker to point up and caught the Penguins’ side of the scoreboard revert back to double zeroes just as the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena with the final calls. The boards vibrated with the pounding of triumphant fans.

Meliorn tapped his stick against Alec’s pads. “It appears your boyfriend isn’t the only higher power watching over you tonight.”

 _Holy shit_. They’d called the score back because of goalie interference.

“We _are_ Angels,” Jace said as he whipped past them toward the penalty box. “See you in five minutes!”

 

****

 

Magnus’ jaw dropped when the scoreboard changed to zero-three in favor of the Angels.

The Angels were fourteen minutes away from a trip to the conference finals and one step closer to playing in the championship, but that wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as the potential for Alec to still earn another shutout.

Magnus gripped Catarina’s hand tighter, grateful that his best friend was used to the squeeze of a desperate man from her years on the hospital floor.

“So what happens now?” Catarina asked.

“Jace has to spend five minutes in the penalty box and cannot be replaced with another player. Normally during a power play—where the penalized team is short-handed—if a goal was scored, the rest of the penalty would be waved away and the game would return to a five-on-five. But because Jace is serving a major penalty he has to sit out all five minutes. And Alec has to defend that net while his team is down one man.”

Catarina pressed her shoulder into him. “Do you hear yourself? My god, Magnus. You, of all people, just explained hockey to me!”

The death-grip he had on Catarina’s hand eased as he chuckled. “It’s madness. Being with him…. It’s—”

“Beautiful, exhilarating madness,” Catarina finished for him.

Magnus nodded. He couldn’t agree more.

The game restarted with the Angels winning the faceoff, but they couldn’t hold onto the puck for long. Play moved in front of Alec within seconds, and now Catarina was clutching as tightly to Magnus as he was to her.

Magnus tried to focus on where the puck was on the ice, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Alec.

Alec was focused. Methodical. Precise.

A protector. A leader.

Unstoppable.

And Alec was _his_.

Everyone in the arena was on their feet as the seconds ticked down in the power play, shouts reverberating around them with each shot Alec deflected. Magnus couldn’t help but join in with the countdown chant, pride lighting up every cell in his body as Jace barreled out of the penalty box and swept back into play without the Penguins scoring.

There were less than nine minutes left in the game and the Angels still had a commanding lead. Alec was doing everything he could to ensure an Angels win tonight, and it was time for Magnus to face their fight on another front.

Magnus squared his shoulders and extracted his lip gloss from his pocket.

Catarina watched him apply a thin layer. “Armor?”

Magnus slicked his lips together and shook his head. “Fun. He’s the one that will need a suit of armor.”

Catarina squeezed his arm. “I’ll walk out with you.”

Magnus said his goodbyes to Imogen and her guests with Catarina’s arm tucked into his own. He parted ways with her in the main lounge with a kiss on the cheek and an order from her to call later if he needed to talk.

Magnus ignored the uncomfortable feeling of being watched as he stood outside the suite and watched a few more minutes of the game from the TVs in the lounge. Magnus snapped his cuffs into place and kept his eyes on the TV, refusing to acknowledge Morgenstern first.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Sebastian said as he came to stand next to Magnus. “I heard your portfolio of toothless barbarians is growing.”

“Get to the point, Morgenstern. You have blackmail to get around to, don’t you?”

Sebastian flashed a manic grin, gesturing to the hardbacked chairs set in the corner of the lounge. “Shall we?”

Magnus arched an eyebrow and took a seat. “You are ever the gentleman.”

“Not at all,” Sebastian replied. He dropped into the seat and fixed his eyes on Magnus. “So this is what’s going to happen from here. You’re going to negotiate a robust new contract for Alec and Jace. The financial windfall will, of course, be directed to my firm, as well as the _effusive_ praise of two of the league’s top players for their new money managers.”

Magnus scowled. “That sounds exactly like your first proposition, except now you’re dragging Jace Wayland into something he has no part in.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. As a show of good faith on my part, all threats of outing Alec are removed as of tonight. As long as you agree to my conditions, that truce holds.” Sebastian dug into his pocket and handed a USB drive to Magnus. “In fact, here is the only copy of the photographs that I possess. I assure you—Alec is no longer being followed by anyone on my payroll.”

Magnus palmed the drive. That contention was impossible to prove and Sebastian knew that. _What_ he was offering wasn’t vital, though. It was that he was offering anything at all. It appeared that Izzy’s strategy to wait for Sebastian to make the first move had paid off, at least in part.

Magnus bit back a smile. “That you are negotiating with me shows your desperation.”

Sebastian relaxed into the chair, opening his arms wide. “I’m simply proposing a new scenario that sees us all benefit. Alec and Jace receive new contracts, you enrich your status as an in-demand agent, and you and Alec are free to pursue whatever prurient activities you type of men do. I’ll even continue to protect Alec from being outed.”

“And Alec, of course, stays in the closet.”

“Of course.”

It was the evilest of men who sold compromise one small sacrifice at a time. Chipping away at your morals until you were whittled into slivers that resembled the fractured pieces of their own diminished humanity. Thin enough that you could be bent into the shape they desired. Broken.

Magnus would never compromise. He wasn’t even tempted. “And all I have to do is sell my soul to the devil.”

“I can be your greatest ally or I can be your greatest enemy. There are quite a few metaphors that are fitting, actually.” Sebastian glanced at the TV and Magnus followed his line of sight. The final minutes of the game were swiftly ticking down and the Angels were still up by three goals. Fans inside the arena were already celebrating, raucous cheers and stomping feet shaking the arena floor. Sebastian shrugged and leveled his gaze on Magnus again. “When you consider the alternatives, it seems like a rather easy choice to me.”

“To you, it would.”

Sebastian stood and peered down at Magnus. “I know you probably think that you still have a degree of control over the situation because you can link those pictures to me. I assure you, that’s not the case. Alec is only one of the many pieces I control.”

Magnus’ heart sped and he restrained himself from giving any type of physical reaction to Sebastian’s vague threat. “You don’t even have control over your own sanity.”

Sebastian shrugged as if whether he did or not was of no consequence to him. “Call me when you’re ready to close our deal. And I do mean ‘when,’ not ‘if.’” He smiled down at Magnus, and Magnus’ skin crawled. “Oh, and before I forget. I hear there’s an enlightening segment being uploaded to TMZ’s channel tonight…. Enjoy your post-game festivities, Magnus. I’ll look forward to your call.”

Magnus watched Sebastian walk away with a sense of foreboding sitting heavy in his gut—even as the arena came alive with celebration around him.

 

****

 

Alec couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Even though he was heading for the pressroom instead of staying in the locker room with his teammates to recount every second of the game, it wasn’t enough to bring him down. He settled his NYBA cap over his wet hair and took a deep breath as he waited by the door of the pressroom for Jace and Garroway to join him. At least the familiar squeamishness of being in front of cameras and having unpredictable questions asked of him was muted by the adrenaline high still singing through his veins.

He was pounced on from behind, Jace’s damp hair whacking him across the face as he clung to Alec like a monkey.

“Fucking get off me, Jace,” Alec laughed as he poked at Jace’s sides to make him let go.

They tussled in the hallway until Jace tightened his legs around Alec’s thighs and nearly sent them crashing them to the ground.

“Bro,” Jace said, his voice going serious.

Alec stilled. “What?”

“You’re really fucking tall,” Jace said in an awed whisper. “Everything looks different from up here.”

Alec huffed. “You’re an asshole.”

“Nah. I’m King Kong on top of the Empire State Building.”

But before Jace could let out the gorilla mating call Alec knew was coming, Garroway strode down the hallway toward them. “Good game out there, gentlemen.”

Jace kept hold of Alec as he looked over his shoulder. “ _Great_ game, Coach.”

Garroway only lifted an eyebrow. “Someone break out the champagne?”

“I’m just naturally bubbly and intoxicating, Coach,” Jace quipped.

A smile inched up Garroway’s lips. “You sure as hell leave the same kind of debilitating hangover.”

Alec barked out a laugh as Jace dropped to the floor.

Garroway gripped Alec’s shoulder. “First time I’ve seen you smiling for a post-game press conference, Lightwood.”

Alec shrugged. “Winning has that effect on me, Coach.”

“So does my natural effervescence,” Jace added.

Garroway chuckled. “I only need you to be professionals for ten more minutes tonight. Think you can handle that?”

“I’ll put a cork in it,” Jace replied, making the obligatory popping sound to go with his overly extended metaphor. Alec was still laughing quietly to himself as he took a seat next to Jace with Garroway on the other side of him on the raised dais.

The first few minutes of the press conference focused on Garroway rehashing the highlights of the game—the ten second clips that would be used for broadcast and on the web. Alec did his best to remain attentive, but couldn’t help surveying the room for Magnus between questions. Magnus had never attended one of Alec’s post-game torture sessions before, and it was probably better if he didn’t show for this one, either. Alec was already vibrating with the need to get out of here as soon as possible and get to Magnus’ place. Just laying eyes on him would probably make Alec squirm for reasons very different than his typical press discomfort.

“I have a question for Alec.”

Alec’s gaze snapped to the reporter from the league network. He wiped his hands on his jeans, then pulled his cap on tighter.

“You’ve played for seven years, but you’re just now hitting the national spotlight. Does it feel like you’re playing the best hockey of your career?”

Alec nodded and managed a smile. “Best so far? Definitely.”

Alec didn’t recognize the next voice as it cut in, “Alec, the league record for shutouts in the post-season is seven. You think you can beat that?”

Alec winced.

Jace snorted.

“You’re new to the pressroom, aren’t you?” Luke said with a territorial growl. “Next question that _doesn’t_ trample our goalie’s superstitions.”

The press corps tittered, and Alec tried to restrain the blush that threatened to rise at the thought of the superstitions that no one else would ever know about aside from Magnus.

“It’s yet to be seen who you’ll be going up against in the third round,” another reporter called out. “Which team are you hoping to face?”

Garroway glanced at Alec to take the question.

“We’re going to have to be at our absolute best to win against either Detroit or Tampa,” Alec answered automatically. “Of course we’d love to have home ice, but we’ll be ready even if we have to go on the road.”

Jace smirked and leaned into his microphone. “Personally, I’m good with their series going all the way to seven games.”

Alec just shook his head and smiled at Jace.

“Coach Garroway, your captain and goaltender have played together off and on for almost two decades. How much does that history effect the success the Angels are experiencing right now?”

Shuffling at the back of the room caught Alec’s attention. Izzy entered quietly, holding the door open behind her for Magnus. Alec’s breath caught in his throat. Magnus’ fingers were stacked with more rings than usual, and his wrists were weighted with bracelets. His makeup was dark and striking—fitting for a night game—and his suit was one Alec had never seen before. It fit with such precision that Alec could pick out every subtle curve of Magnus’ body, and Alec followed every line of muscle with a sweeping glance. No matter how fucking amazing the suit looked on him, though, Alec was looking forward to leaving it in a pile on Magnus’ floor tonight.

Alec swallowed thickly and forced himself to pay attention.

“It’s a huge advantage,” Garroway was answering. “I did the dance of switching from team to team when I was a player, and the friendship and working relationship Jace and Alec have is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Having players who _all_ gel as well as this team does is one part strategy, one part kismet, and a hell of a lot of luck. That our leaders already have solid on-ice communication has been a game changer for all of us.”

 _Leaders_? As is plural?

In the back of the room Magnus lifted an eyebrow as if to say _I told you so_.

Alec ducked his head to hide his grin.

“Jace, you took on the role of captain this year. This is the farthest you’ve gone into the playoffs and now you’re doing it with the captain’s ‘C’ on your jersey. How much more does that mean to you?”

Alec braced himself to jump in if needed. This was a topic Jace could ramble on about for hours.

Jace flicked his hair off his forehead, then leaned forward. “Coach Garroway chose me for this role, but I’ve worked hard to earn the respect of the entire team every day since then. I hope I’ve earned it, ‘cause, let’s be real—I play some damn good hockey.” He waited for the snickers of the press to die down before continuing with a cocky smile. “But seriously, we started the year with a couple major roster adjustments that have worked out for the best. Santiago came to us just before the start of the season and he brought us the speed we were missing in that position. We also have three solid defenseman pairings now, and Meliorn is a perfect fit on the forward line. He brings much-needed zen to counteract my head-first rush for the puck. You didn’t hear that from me, though.” Jace chuckled and had the entire room laughing with him. “The bottom line is, the playoffs always mean something. But they do mean more this year because I have the opportunity to lead this team. I’m proud to be working with all of these men.”

It was a rare moment of sincerity from his best friend. Although no one else in that room knew Jace was anything but confident in the moment, Alec recognized the quick, nervous flick of his tongue over his lips, and the way his hand curled as if he had a hockey stick in his grip even now—an unconscious manifestation of wanting to be on the ice, where he was most comfortable.

Jace loved being the Angels’ captain, but that didn’t mean he was up for sharing how much he’d had to grow to make it a reality.

Jace had always believed he deserved to be the captain. He was the elitist of the elite—hockey royalty. But it hadn’t been until he’d started playing for Luke Garroway that he began to understand the sacrifice it took to actually be a leader. It had been one year of Alec watching Jace’s frustration build as Garroway broke him of the obsession to have control of the puck—focusing instead on defense and how to use his speed as an advantage. The second year it was designing plays and refining his passes, and that’s when everything changed for Jace.

It was like he looked up and realized he’d been part of a team all along.

That second year of his and Jace’s contract, the Angels had made it into the first round of the playoffs—and been swept in four games. Alec had expected Jace to push the blame onto everyone but himself, to go back to perfecting his own game instead of focusing on the team, but Jace wasn’t just at the gym or the practice rink every day with Alec in the off-season—he coaxed more and more of the other players to come with him. Two weeks before the season was set to start Jace had the entire team already working unofficially on drills.

At the first official practice Garroway had announced Jace would be their new captain, and instead of a smug attitude, Alec had seen a touch of self-doubt in best friend’s face. Of fear. It was then that Alec knew Jace was ready.

But that was a story Jace would never tell.

Jace self-consciously turned to Alec and Alec knocked his shoulder against Jace’s in silent support.

“You seem like a tight knit group,” another reporter observed. “What contributes the most to that?”

“Trust,” Alec answered without hesitation.

“Alec, you’ve stated in previous interviews that you didn’t start playing hockey to be a pro, but since you’re one of the best goalies playing professional hockey today—”

“ _The_ best,” Jace cut in.

The reporter laughed. “What do you want your legacy to be?”

Alec couldn’t help it—his eyes immediately found Magnus at the back of the room.

 

****

 

There was no escape from the intensity of Alec’s gaze.

Magnus shifted nervously against Izzy’s side so his knees didn’t give out. She may have been the one in six inch heels, but it was Magnus who was unsteady.

Alec scrubbed a hand over his beard and looked at the reporter. “I’m just thankful I’ve had the chance to play. I hope I have quite a few years left in the net before I can even begin thinking about a legacy.”

“That was a flawless answer,” Izzy whispered.

Magnus breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course it was.”

Izzy lifted her wrist to look at her watch. “Not one question about TE&A yet and we’re almost done.”

Garroway pointed to someone in the back row with their hand up.

“Jace, your agency switch is news that’s fresh on the heels of the scandal hitting TE&A. Was that a factor in your split?”

“Dammit,” Izzy swore under her breath.

Jace didn’t appear uncomfortable with the question, though. “Moving to Idris Entertainment was in the works long before all that came down. Now I have the best agent in the business working with me. I’m happy with where I’ve landed.”

Izzy squeezed his hand. “Holy shit, he actually stuck to my script.”

“You scripted his praise of me?”

Izzy drew her eyebrows together. “Actually no, just the beginning and end parts. But getting those two points on message is more than I expected from him.”

“We have time for one more question,” Garroway prompted as he pointed to another reporter.

“I’m from Outsports. We heard about the clinic some of the Angels participated in for You Can Play in Pittsburgh. Can you talk about why you chose to support this particular league initiative?”

Magnus wasn’t sure how Alec would react to that question being asked, but the wide grin that lit up Alec’s face was infectious. Genuine. Magnus’ chest ached at the sight.

No matter how many times Alec had said it by now, Magnus saw it for himself in that moment—Alec wanted to be out. He was happy about having had the opportunity to mentor LGBTQ kids, and would be even more so when he could do so living his full truth.

Magnus gripped the USB drive in his pocket until he felt the plastic begin to buckle. Sebastian could go back to the hell he’d come from. Alec would come out on his own terms.

Alec peered at Jace mischievously. “I got to watch a fourteen-year-old stop Jace on a breakaway drill. I’d do another clinic for them in a heartbeat, and not just because of that.”

Garroway smiled at his players. “You Can Play is a valued partner. The Angels believe that we are stronger as an organization when we embrace and reflect the diversity of all our fans as well as current and future players.”

“If you can play, you can play,” Jace added.

Alec nodded. “It’s that simple.”

Garroway clapped Alec on the back and stood. “Thank you for your questions. It’s time to let my players go home and take a well-deserved break.”

As the room began to empty, Alec caught Magnus’ eyes, an intimate smile on his lips. Magnus mouthed as subtly as he could for Alec to stay in the room until it had cleared out. Alec nodded in acknowledgment, a shy smile lighting his face.

Magnus’ stomach sank.

There wasn’t going to be any break for Alec, or any of them, tonight.

 

****

 

Alec stood and pushed back from the table, leaning close into Jace. “It looks like Magnus needs to talk to me. Can you stick around?”

Jace furrowed his brow, but nodded. “Sure.”

“The Times wants a moment with me then I’ll see you back in the locker room,” Garroway said as he headed for his office with a reporter in tow.

Whether it was leftover adrenaline from the game or the effect of Magnus’s presence in the pressroom tonight, Alec felt like he was soaring as he made his way around the dais toward the back of the room where Magnus and Izzy were waiting. He imagined being allowed to grab Magnus right here and now—to kiss him fiercely in front of the entire room. But even if they had been alone, there was a shifting of Magnus’ jaw that gave Alec pause the closer they got. His smile began to fall.

It was Izzy that spoke first. “We need to find a place to talk.” She tipped her chin up to Jace. “You too.”

“And we’ll need access to a smart TV.” Magnus frowned. “I’ve been advised there’s something online we needed to see.”

Alec swallowed hard. “There’s one in the team meeting room that we can use. Simon should have the key.”

Izzy nodded once, then her fingers were flying across her phone, presumably texting her husband so they could borrow his keys. Alec caught eyes with Magnus and he saw trepidation, maybe even fear, painted across his face. He had to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out for him.

“Show me the way, big brother.” Izzy looped her arm in Alec’s as they wove through the remaining reporters and made their way down the hallway, with Magnus and Jace following behind them.

“How bad?” he whispered to his sister.

She shook her head. “I don’t know yet.”

Every bit of joy Alec had carried with him into that press conference room leached away.

Alec looked up and down the hallway when they arrived in front of the meeting room. Satisfied they were alone, he twisted the knob to see if it was unlocked only to find Simon, Clary, and Max in front of the TV already. All three of their heads snapped up in unison. Simon avoided Alec’s eyes, Max shook his head and began to pace, and the rims of Clary’s eyes were red. Jace immediately rushed to her side, drawing her into a hug and whispering into her ear.

Alec was at a loss. “What’s going on?”

Magnus came up behind him, his hand resting on Alec’s lower back. “Morgenstern was at the game tonight….”

Alec felt himself pale.

“…and he told me to check out TMZ tonight. He said we think we have control over the situation, but we don't.” Magnus looked to Simon, who had the remote in his hand. “Did you already find the clip?”

“It’s not good,” Simon warned.

Alec grit his teeth together. “Let’s see it.”

Simon hit play and a split image of Harvey Levin, the founder of TMZ, and Sebastian filled the screen.

Alec startled. He hadn’t known what to expect, but seeing Sebastian’s face on a celebrity gossip show wasn’t it.

“You’re not our usual type of guest, Mr. Morgenstern,” Harvey began. “But you approached us about a development with the Talented Entertainers and Artists debacle?”

“I did. I wasn’t planning on coming forward about this at all, but since there’s been so much discussion and speculation on how this affair came to light, I felt like it was time to step forward.” Sebastian’s demeanor was one of a man conflicted. He wore a casual linen shirt and his blonde hair was loose—portraying a man who was approachable and honest. All things Alec knew he wasn’t. “My firm learned about TE&A’s egregious lack of ethics through indirect channels—neither the agency nor either of the parties involved are clients of ours. But Morgenstern & Morgenstern is committed to ethical practices. We couldn’t let this go unchallenged—it reflects poorly on the entire industry. Of course, after discovering the affair, we attempted several communications through official channels. When that didn’t work, we knew we had to do something. We couldn’t stand back and allow it to continue—”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Max ground out.

Alec felt like the floor had shifted, then realized he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled and his head swam, so he leaned into Magnus for support, seeking his hand. The quiet strength of Magnus at his side was the only thing keeping him standing.

“Okay, enough. I can’t look at his face anymore,” Simon said as he clicked off the TV. “The interview goes on for a couple more minutes, but it’s pretty much a rehash of this bullshit.”

Jace slumped onto a table, pressing into Clary’s side. “Sebastian Morgenstern is the one who brought down TE&A?”

Alec’s thoughts flitted back and forth between the blow of this announcement and the victorious headspace he’d been in not a half hour before. It was dizzying. Sickening.

He couldn’t piece together how it was even possible. “ _How_?”

“I’ll have to do some digging to figure out where the connection is,” Izzy answered. “But the fact that he was able to do this without a legitimate business relationship with them…? It only gives his story more validity if he comes forward about the two of you.”

Alec caught eyes with Magnus, the same fear thrumming through his veins that was on Magnus’ face. He’d thought it was bad when they didn’t know what could come next, but understanding that Sebastian had the power to take down an organization he was theoretically unconnected to was a whole new level of madness.

How were they supposed to fight him?

How were they possibly going to win?

The balance had just tipped in Sebastian’s favor, and that egomaniac fucking knew it.

Alec gathered Magnus into his arms, kissing his forehead. “We’ll figure this out. Even if it means I have to come out before my contract negotiations, and we have to end our professional relationship.”

“Alexander,” Magnus pleaded. He fisted his hands in Alec’s t-shirt and clung onto him. “The ramifications—”

The door slammed open and Garroway stopped in his tracks.

Garroway’s eyes immediately went to Alec’s, but Alec didn’t pull away from Magnus. There was no point now. He tipped his chin up. “Coach.”

Alec had to give his coach credit. His stoic veneer didn’t budge an inch. “Lightwood.”

“We were just—” he began to explain.

Garroway held up a hand. “If I don’t need to know, I don’t want to know. The rest of the team has already left for the restaurant. I’m heading there now.”

“We’ll be right behind you.” Alec shifted nervously when Garroway made no move to leave. “You, uh, you know Magnus, my sister Izzy, brother Max, Simon, and—”

“Clary. It’s good to see to you.” Garroway’s voice warbled, his calm demeanor slipping.

A chill passed over Alec’s skin as Jace threaded his fingers through Clary’s and held tight. Garroway knew Clary, and apparently Jace was aware of it. What the hell?

Clary let go of Jace’s hand and crossed her arms. “Luke.”

Garroway didn’t, or maybe couldn’t, hide the wince at Clary’s frosty tone. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked to Alec again. “Shut the lights off and lock up when you’re done. You have keys, right, Lewis?”

Simon nodded. “I do, Coach.”

Garroway cleared his throat, gaze shifting between Jace and Alec. “Are you two coming to the restaurant?”

Jace looked to Alec, signaling it was his call. Truthfully, it was the last place he wanted to be right now, but being with the team after a win like this was important. He nodded to Jace.

“We’ll be there,” Jace confirmed.

With that, Garroway stole one more pained look at Clary then shut the door behind him. The ensuing silence was stifling.

Alec glared at Clary. He remembered that Garroway had mentioned Jocelyn to Magnus in Pittsburgh. At the time he’d been surprised—he was angry now. “So both you and your mom know Coach Garroway?”

“Not now, Alec,” Jace bit out.

“Right. By all means, let’s keep up the secrets,” Alec spit back at him. “It’s worked so well for us this far.”

“ _Alec_.” Izzy’s low voice was a warning.

Alec rounded on her. “No! This shit has to stop. First Max and whatever it is the two of you are hiding, and now this…?”

Max cringed at the mention of his name. “Look, Alec—”

“Max. Don’t,” Izzy commanded.

Max snapped his mouth shut.

“Clary, Max, and I have a private life just as much as you do,” Izzy said. “If anyone should see the importance of not forcing someone into communication they’re not ready for, it’s you.”

Alec fumed.

Magnus slid his hand around Alec’s hip. “I think it would benefit all of us to step away from this for the night. What do you advise, Isabelle?”

Izzy held her death stare on Alec until he clenched his jaw and gave in. “You’re right—we have enough going on. Tell us what to do.”

“Alec and Jace need to be seen at the Angels’ party tonight. The rest of us need to go home—Magnus, you included. There’s no more room for breaking rules here. Text and call each other as much as you want, but this isn’t a game. We’re weeks away from Alec’s contract negotiation, and if we do this the right way, then we can get both of you out of this unscathed.” Izzy stepped up to them and Alec had a sinking feeling what she was going to say next. “Let me be very clear on this. No sneaking around. No going to Max’s apartment. Do absolutely nothing to raise suspicion.”

Alec balked, grasping at the one excuse to see Magnus that Izzy wouldn't deny. “We don’t know yet if we’ll have home ice for the next round….”

“We’ll deal with your superstitions when we get there. Until then, you have to listen to me this time. No seeing each other in person until we get this under control, no exceptions.” She glared at him, but the longer she stared, the softer her face became. “This is for you, Alec. Don’t forget that.”

“It’s a week at the most,” Magnus replied. “What could possibly go wrong?”

Alec knew all too well what could go wrong in the span of seven minutes, let alone seven days. And by the dour expressions on everyone’s faces, they did too.

 

****

 

Magnus stared at the ceiling in his bedroom and tried not to be bitter. Tonight should have been a celebration. A night where time limits and the outside world didn’t exist. If Sebastian Morgenstern didn’t exist, Alec would be here right now.

But as it stood, Magnus was in his loft alone, all possibility of Alec being near him wiped away for the foreseeable future. Max had even come home with him to extract Alec’s suitcase, taking it back to Alec’s apartment.

Magnus picked up his phone and dialed Alec. He wasn’t sure whether his gift had arrived yet, or if they would be on the phone when it did. He didn’t know how this present would be received, but he wouldn’t allow Morgenstern to overshadow all of the good that had happened tonight. He wanted to see Alec smile like he had been at the post-game press conference.

The Facetime call picked up and Magnus smiled at the expanse of skin in front of him.

“Hey. Already in bed?” Alec asked.

“I’m attempting to sleep.”

“Me too.” Alec propped up his phone and snuggled into the pillow under his head. “And failing.”

“Let’s talk hockey then,” Magnus offered.

 _That_ subject never failed to bring a smile to Alec’s face.

“Okay. What about?”

“Tell me about the possibilities for the next round.”

Alec ran his fingers through his hair. “The Wings and Lightning are tied two games apiece with game five tomorrow, so we have at least two games to practice and rest up before their series is decided. I’m hoping for three games, and for Detroit to win.”

Magnus nodded. “So that you’ll have home ice for the conference finals.”

“We only had two regular season wins more than them, but it’s enough—” Alec looked off screen, his brow furrowing. “There’s someone knocking at my door. The last time that happened….”

How had Magnus forgotten the incident with the police? He reassured Alec immediately, “I’m guessing it’s the messenger I sent over because you couldn’t be here. It’s a gift.”

“Is it okay for me to answer the door like this?”

Magnus smirked. “Since you are deliciously bare-chested, it may be good if you’re at least wearing pants.”

“Then it’s not a stripper?”

Magnus laughed. “No. It’s not a stripper. Although, I don’t know Danny well enough to make that assumption either.”

“Danny? As in the doorman of your building Danny?”

“The same.”

Alec’s lips quirked into a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Magnus was left with a view of Alec’s empty bed and the wall of windows, curtains open to the downtown skyline against a black night. He’d only been in that apartment once before, and under, frankly, awful conditions. He wished he could be there now to deliver this gift in person, and to begin wiping away the bad memories for Alec. To help Alec’s place feel safer again for him. But until then, he hoped this gesture would help Alec know that he was thinking about the future—not just their present.

The picture on his cell bounced, rotated, then Alec’s face came back on the screen. He was sitting up against his headboard now.

“I didn’t have to bother with the pants—he didn’t cruise me at all. I’m very sure Danny is straight.”

“At one time I would’ve said the same thing about you.”

“True.” Alec held his hand up, palm facing the camera with the keyring draped over his ring finger. And just below that, on Alec’s wrist, the bracelet Magnus had given him. Silver keys and a silver bracelet.

“So these….” Alec closed his hand around the keys, clinking them together. “Are they a metaphorical gift? The keys to your heart?”

Magnus chuckled. No, he was quite sure Alec already had those.

“One is for the security door to my building and other goes to the front door of my loft.”

“I figured. Danny mentioned last night that you had cancelled an extra set, but I didn’t want to assume….”

Magnus swallowed. He didn't realize Alec had known about them. “I didn’t think you’d have any use for them after I talked to you.”

“Yeah, well….” Alec positioned his cell between his raised knees and reached off screen. He held up a second keyring. “These are the keys to my place and to the goaltender equipment room at the arena.”

Alec twisted his own keyring and slid Magnus’ on, next to his.

“I have sets to Izzy’s, Max’s and Jace’s apartments too, but those stay in a drawer because I don’t use them often enough to carry them with me all the time, but these….” Magnus’ heart threatened to burst at the sappy smile on Alec’s face. “Thank you, Magnus. You’re up six to eight.”

 _Eight_? Two books, the cup of coffee Magnus had bought him before their first meeting with Sebastian, the beard comb, bracelet and soap…. He had the list of things he’d given to Alec memorized. Even if Alec had counted the bracelet and soap as two gifts instead of one, the keys should’ve only put him up by one.

“I had us at seven to six with the keys.”

A blush crawled up Alec’s cheeks. “It’s definitely eight. Believe me.”

Magnus let that topic sit. When Alec wanted to talk about it, he would.

More than anything, though, he wanted Alec to start using those keys tonight. To be here with him.

That heaviness within his gut wasn’t moving. Hadn’t lessened despite the call to Alec and how happy Alec seemed to be with this gift. He'd told Alec everything Sebastian had said and showed him the USB drive. Alec wasn't willing to meet Sebastian’s demands, just as obstinate as Magnus had been. Unfortunately, that left them with little choice, as well as the possibility of a very tumultuous future.

“I don’t know how to fix this, Alexander.”

“Me either. And I know I got pissed back there at whatever Max and Izzy are doing, but it’s more that I’m…scared for them. The only other time they got this quiet was when they were trying to get my parents to see reason about my sexuality.”

“They likely feel as if they failed you in that endeavor.”

“They didn’t, and I’ve told them that over and over again.” Alec sighed, resting his head back on the headboard. “But years later Max told me about some of what went down during that time. They almost got themselves disinherited because of me. They love me, I know that. But maybe a bit too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” Magnus insisted.

Alec smiled. “Maybe.” Just as suddenly, his brow furrowed. “My father came to see me before the game.”

“Tonight?”

Alec nodded. “He wants me to come have dinner at the house with he and my mom.”

Magnus held his breath. Considered what the right response was to that. “Are you going to?”

“I’d love to tell you no, but…. Yeah, I probably will.”

“They are your parents,” Magnus granted. “If there’s a way to repair that relationship in any way that will be healthy for you, you should try. But don’t be tough on yourself whatever you decide, I’ll support whatever you choose.”

Alec scrubbed a hand over his face. His eyes were shiny. His voice too quiet. “Do you miss your mom?”

Magnus’ breath hitched with surprise at the question. “I do. She did the best she could for me given her circumstances. I wish I had been able to get to know her outside of the tragedy that surrounded her.”

Alec’s hazel eyes bored into him. Vulnerable. Stripped bare. “I wish it had been like that for us too.”

Magnus’ heart ached. His fingers itched to touch. He wished that too.

But there was nothing they could do to change that.

Magnus sucked in a breath and changed the subject. “Do you have practice early tomorrow?”

“No. I get to sleep in. I’m actually looking forward to it, or was, at least.”

It was left unsaid that Alec would’ve been able to do that here if circumstances were different. But Magnus heard it through the regret in Alec’s voice anyway.

“Then do that.” Magnus tucked his hair behind his ear. “I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon. Good—”

“Don’t.” Alec cut him off. “Just…say ‘see you later,’ okay? Because I won’t have a _good_ night until I get to spend the night with you again.”

“I’ll see you soon, Alexander.”

“Soon,” Alec repeated.

Magnus blew a kiss at the screen and hung up.

He waited only a second for the screen to clear, then sat up in bed and dialed Izzy.

“Hey, Magnus,” Izzy sighed. “I was wondering how long it would take you to call.”

Magnus jumped out of bed and headed for the kitchen. He was going to need coffee. And maybe a drink. “No more hedging, Isabelle. I need to know what you and Max are working on.”

 

****

 

Sunday blurred into Monday, then Tuesday, then Wednesday.

Practice.

Meetings.

Working out with Jace.

Lunch with Max.

Dinners at Izzy and Simon’s.

It should’ve felt familiar—it was a routine that had been the same for years before he’d met Magnus—but instead the return to his old reality was disorienting. Wrong.

Not everything was the same, though. Every night he went to sleep with _The Charioteer_ playing in his ears. Every morning he woke up hoping he’d get to use the new set of keys on his ring. To see Magnus again. To hold him.

Wednesday night, Alec watched as the Lightning edged out the Red Wings on a goal in the last minute of the game. The conference finals would start Saturday in Tampa Bay, and the possibility of spending a night at Magnus’ drifted further away.

He tried to conjure up the feeling of Magnus’ arms around him. Of Magnus’ lips against his, but every day it faded a bit more.

He drove himself hard at practice, and even harder at the gym, until Jace had to drag him aside and warn him that it wouldn’t do the team any good if Alec was exhausted when the puck dropped. So Alec went on long nightly runs instead, his feet pounding out the same rhythm as the driving bass that he ratcheted up to painful levels to drive the static out of his head.

He talked to Magnus and texted with him. They Facetimed every night. But it wasn’t nearly enough. He’d been fine for years with one-off encounters that eased the tightness of his skin, but now he knew what it felt like to be truly sated. To be touched with care, and adoration, and unapologetic need. He would’ve given anything to simply hold Magnus’ hand.

The contentment he felt when he was with Magnus—that steadiness he craved—was morphing into frustration. Into anger. He didn’t know how to make that stop.

It was Thursday now, and technically, practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but everyone had stuck around on the practice rink instead of heading for the showers. Emotions were running high for all of them. They were all itching for the series to start, but it would be another two days before they boarded the team plane for Tampa.

Caleb Thomas, one of the Angels’ forwards, was lazily backhanding pucks at Alec when he caught eyes with Alec. “You seeing anyone, Lightwood?”

Alec straightened up out of the net. Over the last five days he’d had more personal conversations with his teammates than he ever had before. He was revealing more and more about his off-ice life to all of them, yet only hints—drawing back the curtains for a peek instead of ripping them wide open. That was a question he wasn’t ready to answer out loud yet, though.

Alexis Rousseau, the D-man on the same line as Caleb, was whipping shots along the boards just to see how far they’d go. “Now there is a question that intrigues me.”

 _Magnus. His name is Magnus_ , Alec wanted to say. Instead, he ignored both of his teammates. He started slapping pucks at the defensemen who were crashing into each other on one of the faceoff circles in an unofficial contest of who could take the hardest blows and still stay on their feet.

“ _Va chier_ , Lightwood,” Mathieu Bergeron called out as one of the pucks that Alec had sent over smacked him in the thigh. “ _Tu sais déjà qu'il voit quelqu'un, Caleb. La jolie blonde qu'il a apporté à quelques événements_?”

Alec looked to Rousseau. “Can you translate that?”

Rousseau shrugged. “That is not any French I know.”

Bergeron flipped Rousseau off and Rousseau cackled.

“He said we already know who it is because of that hot blonde who’s been on your arm for the last year,” Matthew Bosch—the second half of the defense squad helmed by he and the French Canadian Mathieu—offered. “But, nah. That’s not the whole story. Our boy is playing the field. Didn’t you see the pics of him slumming it in Brooklyn?”

“The Post is trash,” Emil snarked, cutting into their conversation.

“Is it?” Martin Romanov—Raphael’s protégé—questioned as he flicked his stick and sent a puck flying for the net. “You are saying that was not you in that photograph, Lightwood?”

Alec swiped away Romanov’s shot easily with his blocker. “It was me.”

“I know which hot blonde it is you are talking about!” Romanov exclaimed. “She looks very take charge. Very capable—if you catch my meaning.”

Alec cringed, but before he could respond to defend Lydia, Jace was bellowing from across the ice.

“Show some respect!” Jace snapped. He was flanked by Meliorn, Mantas Laurinaitis, and Seth Stewart as they abandoned any pretense of continuing winger practice and joined everyone else on Alec’s side of the rink. “Lydia is an attorney, not just some ‘hot blonde.’”

“How sweet,” Caleb crooned. “Wayland is defending his best friend’s lady.”

Alec skated out of the net and grabbed his water bottle from the top of it. “Lydia and I aren’t like that. We’re friends.”

“Told you he was playing the field,” Bosch insisted.

Alec rolled his eyes, then squirted water into his mouth. “Last time I checked, these were skates I laced up, not cleats.”

“You’re a one-woman kind of guy then?” Caleb asked as he continued to whip pucks into a now empty net.

Jace covered up a laugh with a cough.

Alec smirked. “Definitely not that either.”

Bosch seemed to be considering that. “Well, whenever you do find someone you want to keep around for longer than a night, Kristin and I would love to have you over for dinner. She’s been bugging me to find more couples to hang out with.”

“Marriage,” Bat derided from where he leaned against the boards with Emil.

“It’s an honorable choice,” Bergeron defended his D-man partner in crime—as usual. “All you have to do is find the right person.”

Meliorn rested his gloves on the top of his stick, leaning forward as he tipped his chin toward the bench. “My chi goes all out of whack when Alaric makes an appearance.”

Alec glanced at the bench. Alaric had his hands on his hips and Garroway was nodding solemnly at whatever he was saying.

The presence of the Angels’ vice president of pro scouting cut the conversation off immediately, and everyone skated in closer to each other. If Garroway was a wolf, Alaric was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He looked completely non-threatening, but he had the ear of the general manager and a job that pitted pros against pros. Alaric didn’t even glance at any of them as he exited the practice rink. The possibilities of what he and Garroway had been discussing made a cold drop of sweat bead down Alec’s neck.

“Reminds me that my time could be up at any second,” Meliorn continued as soon as the door had shut behind Alaric. With Alaric gone the entire team seemed to take a collective deep breath.

Jace clapped Meliorn’s back. “Your place is solid here.”

“Are any of ours really?” Rousseau questioned, a smirk growing on his lips. He pushed a shoulder into Jace. “Except maybe the golden boy here.”

Jace shoved him back, sending Rousseau sprawling as he laughed.

“Well, him and Lightwood,” Bosch noted. “Alec continues to keep those pucks out and he’s guaranteed a place on the roster next year.”

Alec grimaced. “Nothing is guaranteed.”

“Yeah. Right,” Mantas scoffed. He didn’t speak often, but when he did it was because someone had enflamed one of his three emotions. “You could slice a man’s throat with your skates and they would still re-up your contract.”

Alec gritted his teeth in frustration. “That’s not the way the league works and you know it.”

“Gimme a break, Lightwood,” Caleb jeered, his tone scathing. “Mantas is right.”

“You think you know what any of our situations are?” Jace bit out.

“Let’s calm it down,” Meliorn implored.

Caleb barked out a derisive laugh. “I know Lightwood is fucking untouchable.”

Emil winced and looked like he was about to lay into Caleb when Bat tugged him away.

_Untouchable._

That one word ate at Alec more than Caleb’s tone or implication. He sure as fuck _was_ untouchable. As in not allowed to have the man he loved anywhere within touching range. Or so fucking untouchable that he was considered a second-class citizen.

Alec tossed his water bottle to the boards and advanced on Caleb. “Am I? Am I untouchable? That’s really fucking good to hear, because I’m pretty damn sure that the front office will care a lot more about the fact that I’m gay than my record this season!”

The rink plunged into silence, broken only by the echo of Alec’s words bouncing off the practice rink walls.

No one moved. No one was said _anything_. Alec clenched his teeth and prepared for the onslaught. Twenty-three pairs of eyes were focused on him and Alec had no idea what any of the players outside the first line were thinking. Garroway had taken a step onto the ice, but his arms were crossed tightly over his chest—waiting to see if he needed to intervene.

Alec couldn’t handle the silence. He faced Bosch, jaw tight. “Would you and Kristin still want to invite me to dinner if I was dating a man?”

Bosch furrowed his brow in confusion. “Yeah, Alec. Why wouldn’t I?”

Alec’s mouth went slack-jawed.

“Kristin always did have a thing for Lightwood,” Stewart pointed out with a smug face. “Now you can finally rest easy, Bosch, there’s no shot of that ever happening.”

“Solid bonus, I’ll admit, but that wasn’t my point,” Bosch answered. He gripped Alec’s shoulder with his glove, forcing Alec to look him in the eye. “I have nothing but respect for you, Alec. You’re just as much my captain as Wayland is.”

Alec’s heart was beating out of his chest as he looked around him and realized the other players were nodding their agreement.

He met his best friend’s eyes and Jace shrugged. “If I could share that ‘C’ with you, you know I would, brother.”

Alec opened his mouth to speak and couldn’t find one single word to say.

“Fecking league rules,” Stewart spit out, his Scottish accent thicker when he was riled up.

Caleb hung his head, and if he’d just realized how his taunts could have been interpreted. “If we had a say in it, that ‘C’ would be split between you and Wayland.”

“Thanks,” was all Alec could manage to get out around the grip his teammates had on his heart.

“Then maybe you should,” Garroway called out. Everyone turned to face him. “Maybe it’s time you had a choice in who leads you when you hit the ice in Tampa.”

 

****

 

Cocooned in the sweatshirt Alec had given him, Magnus sat back on Izzy’s couch and took a deep drink from his wine glass to keep himself from saying anything vile about either of the Lightwood parents. Now wasn’t the time.

Izzy continued to braid her hair, not meeting Magnus’ eyes. “Simon told me that my dad didn’t even recognize him.”

Maybe it was better if Magnus didn’t continue drinking. He didn’t know how much longer he could maintain any kind of objectivity. “My apologies if this is intrusive, but how is that possible? Alexander made it sound like he was the only one they pushed out of their life.”

“My relationship with my mom was…complicated long before anything happened with Alec,” Izzy hedged.

Simon re-joined them in the living room, bringing a plate of cheese and crackers with him. “She’s harder on Izzy than she is on Alec.”

“But why?”

“Impossible expectations? Jealousy? I don’t know. We’ve never really gotten along.” Izzy smiled as Simon squeezed onto the couch behind her, placing a kiss to her hair and securing an arm around her. She gripped his arm before she continued. “When I made it clear I was only continuing to communicate with them for Max’s sake, my mom tried to freeze me out. After that— It just got worse.”

Magnus paused, studying Izzy carefully. Her hold on Simon’s arm hadn’t changed, but there was minute crease between her brows, and her eyes had shuttered—closing off all emotion.

Magnus arched an eyebrow in silent question as Simon took a sip of his wine.

Izzy shook her head. “It got worse. Let’s leave it at that.”

Magnus nodded and moved on. “And your father?”

Izzy gave a long exhale, shoulders slumping. Apparently that wasn’t any safer of a topic. “Things are better with my dad, but that’s not saying much either. He’s always deferred to my mom before anyone else.”

Magnus took a moment to let that sink in. He leaned in to refill each of their glasses when Simon set his down, emptying their second bottle of the night. “I thought they were divorced?”

“They are,” Izzy confirmed. “And my dad has a girlfriend who lives in a completely different house.”

“Robert and Maryse still live together,” Simon clarified.

Magnus lifted an eyebrow. “Your parents are divorced and still live in the same house?”

“Fucked up, right?” Max said, looking up from his laptop. It was the first thing he’d said in hours.

 _Fucked up_ seemed a bit too commonplace for the specifics of their non-traditional arrangement. Magnus set his glass down when his phone rang, relieved to have been provided an out instead of attempting to find an appropriate response. “How was practice, Alexander?”

It had only been five days since he’d last seen Alec in person, and they’d talked and texted frequently during that time, but their forced separation was beginning to wear on him. That Magnus was allowed to be here with Alec’s family was simultaneously a cruel punishment and a merciful lifeline.

If not for the sound of Alec’s soft breaths on the other end of the line, Magnus would have thought Alec wasn’t there.

Then, “So, the whole team knows I’m gay now.”

Magnus was grateful he’d set his glass down so it wasn’t crushed to bits in his hand. “My apologies. I don’t know if I heard that correctly.”

“Oh my god, Magnus,” Alec said, laughter tingeing his voice. “I just screamed out that I was gay in the middle of practice. Izzy is going to fucking kill me.”

If Alec was laughing that had to mean it had gone okay. Right?

Magnus caught eyes with Izzy. “It just so happens I’m with Isabelle right now. Would you prefer to get the murder over with now, or wait until later?”

Izzy’s eyebrows shot up at that.

“Fuck it. Why delay the fun? Throw me on speakerphone.”

“Simon and Max are here too,” Magnus amended.

“Great. More witnesses to my execution. Go for it.”

Magnus met Izzy’s eyes and muted his phone instead of hitting the speaker button. “Be kind to him, please.” He waited until she nodded before he unmuted the call. “Go ahead, Alec. She’s sitting next to me.”

Izzy leaned forward, her lips pursed together. “Alec? Are you okay?”

Alec gave a dark laugh. “I would love to be able to answer that question definitively one of these days.”

“What happened—” Izzy started.

“I lost my cool and blurted out I was gay at practice today.” Alec sighed. “Everyone knows.”

“I’ll get more wine,” Simon said as he got to his feet.

Izzy glanced at Max, who had his head in his hands. “Was there anyone from the front office there?”

“No. The VP of pro scouting had just left. It was just the Coach and the team.”

“ _Everyone_ on the team?” Izzy’s voice went up an octave.

“Yep. Everyone.”

Magnus swallowed. “And how did it go?”

Alec laughed softly. “Yeah…. It was fine, I guess? They voted for me to be an honorary co-captain. Goaltenders aren’t allowed to function as the captain during the game—”

Magnus found himself smiling. “But you’re their captain.”

“Me and Jace, apparently. He’s still the official captain, but yeah, they said I’m just as much their leader as Jace is.”

Warmth settled into Magnus’ core as Izzy gripped his hand. There were tears in her eyes.

“Did you tell them everything?” Izzy asked.

“Didn’t have to.” Alec huffed as if he was walking and had had to pick up the pace. “They understand contract negotiations. No one is going to say anything.”

Magnus had to be sure. “You’re confident about that?”

“After today, yeah. Even if there’s anyone who’s not happy about it, there was enough vocal support that they won’t risk ripping the team apart just to out me.”

Izzy swiped at her eyes, a grin lighting up her entire face. “I’m so proud of you, Alec.”

Magnus could hear the smile on Alec’s lips. “Thanks, Iz. It’s a…. It’s a relief.”

It was the first piece of achingly lovely news Magnus had heard in days. “Is this the appropriate time for me to remind you that I told you so, Alexander?”

Alec chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You were right, Magnus.”

“Great, now we’re never going to be able to keep Magnus’ ego in check,” Max called out. “I’m side-eyeing your closet-crushing tactics, big brother, but the result is undeniably badass. Co-captain of the New York Blazing Angels. Fucking hell. We’re never going to be able to keep _your_ ego in check, either.”

Simon dropped an open beer next to Max, then uncorked another bottle of wine and set it on the coffee table. “An entire hockey team of supposed meatheads, and yet they all have more compassion than your own parents.”

Magnus couldn’t agree more.

“About them—” Alec hesitated. “Dad asked me to come to dinner at the house when he came by the arena last week. Just me and them. I’m going tomorrow night.”

As wide as Max’s smile had been only seconds ago, his frown was now just as deep.

“What the hell, Alec?” Max erupted, yelling toward the phone from his spot at the kitchen table. “No way. We’re not letting you go there without both of us.”

“I need to go alone,” Alec insisted. “I can’t look like I’m bringing in reinforcements. You know how they are when they think they’ve found a weakness they can exploit.”

Izzy shook her head. “No, you won’t let us go because you’re more worried about what they may do to us for supporting you.”

“ _Actually_ , right now I’m more worried about whatever it is you and Max are doing to supposedly protect me, and what the consequences could be.”

Izzy caught Magnus’ eye and he responded with a small shake of his head. He hadn’t told Alec what Izzy and Max had shared with him, and he didn’t plan on it. He wouldn’t lie if Alec asked him directly, he’d simply answer just as Izzy and Max were—that it was much too risky for Alec to know until everything was done.

Izzy frowned. “Just be careful, okay?”

“It’ll be fine. I know Valentine isn’t holding my money someplace to keep it safe, no matter what they think. They don’t have any leverage over me.”

Magnus tugged at the sleeve of Alec’s sweatshirt. It was a poor substitute for having Alec with him, but all he had right now. “Are you headed home?”

Alec sighed. “I guess.”

Magnus listened to how Alec sounded instead of what he said. If Magnus couldn’t be physically present for Alec right now, the next best thing he could give him was his siblings. “I’ll leave so you can come here.”

“No. I want to see _you_. To hold my—” Alec swore under his breath. “To hold you.”

Magnus swallowed and forced the word past his lips for the first time. “To hold your boyfriend. I want the same thing, Alexander.”

The only sound on the other end of the line was Alec’s breath.

“You two are killing me.” Izzy’s voice cracked. “I want to cave, but we can’t. Not yet. We’re so close.”

Max downed half of his beer in one long pull and hunched over his laptop again.

“We know,” Alec said finally. “Magnus and I— We’ll be okay.”

Magnus hoped that was the truth. “We will.”

 

****

 

The last time Alec had done this drive out to the bedroom community of Huntington on Long Island, it had been fall. The trees had been half-bare from the wind and the inevitable push toward winter, leaving stark black branches against a pale gray sky. The road had been coated in a blanket of yellow and red leaves that whirled around the car in front of him and stacked in thick piles against concrete curbs.

Now, spring had fully arrived and his drive was shaded by the canopies of centuries old oak trees. Blankets of highly-manicured green stretched to houses set deep into each piece of generously sized acreage, leading to houses that likely contained more rooms than occupants.

Then, he’d been driving a used Honda Civic that he’d bought with his own money, despite his parents’ protests. Now, he was driving one of the newest Audi models. His parents would still argue that it wasn’t flashy enough for his status, but Alec had relegated himself a long time ago that they would never be fully satisfied with any choice he made for himself. He wished things could be different.

No matter how small it was, he still held hope that there was something to salvage in his relationship with his parents.

It was the only reason he’d decided to make this trek at all. He knew it was likely foolish to hope, but he couldn’t just let go. Family meant everything to him. And whether or not his parents believed it, he was proud of the Lightwood name. He felt a deep responsibility to live up to the expectations of generations of successful and respected Lightwoods.

He pulled into the long driveway leading back to his parents’ house and shut down the engine, staring at the front door for several minutes before convincing his legs to work. Before he hit the doorbell, he lit up his cell screen one more time to view Magnus’ text.

_Call me after if you need to talk. I’ll be working late at the office_

The woman who answered the door wasn’t anyone he knew.

“I’m sorry….” Had they moved and not told him? “I was looking for Robert and Maryse Lightwood’s house.”

“You’re Alexander, correct? Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood are expecting you.”

Alec gritted his teeth at being greeted by hired staff instead of his parents. “It’s Alec.”

He followed the woman through the two-story entryway. He’d spent less than a year living in this house, but even if he’d been here longer it still wouldn’t have felt like home.

Instead of the formal drawing room, she led him into the kitchen then disappeared. His mom was at the stove, an apron around her waist. She looked up at him and smiled tentatively. Alec was momentarily stunned at the sight—it was a complete departure from the last time he’d seen her. He let out a nervous breath. Maybe this would be better than he thought.

Maryse wiped off her hands, then touched his arm with a lightness that suggested she wasn’t sure if even that contact would be allowed. Alec didn’t pull away.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I’m glad you decided to come for dinner, Alec.”

“Congratulations on the win last week,” Robert said as he entered the kitchen. “I never could keep up with your schedule—who are you playing next?”

At least his dad was talking hockey, that subject Alec could handle. He rocked back on his heels and fiddled with his bracelet. “Tampa Bay. I fly down tomorrow for the first game of the conference finals.”

Robert’s mouth widened into a circle. “You’re in the playoffs?”

“Some things never change.” Maryse handed Alec a glass of wine and gave her ex-husband an exasperated look. “They’re one round away from the league championship series, Robert. Sit down, both of you. I’ll have everything done in a moment.”

Alec pulled out the bar stool next to his dad, but couldn’t meet his scrutiny. Instead, his gaze bounced around the room as he mentally ran through the list of socially acceptable topics he could broach with his dad. There was work, the weather—

Alec froze. Tucked under a gilded serving platter on the counter in front of him was a green folder. Labeled Magnus Bane.

Alec slid the folder out, anger already taking hold. “What is this, mom?”

Maryse didn’t even glance at the folder. She went back to the stove. “We can talk after dinner.”

“We’ll talk now,” Alec growled.

Robert steepled his fingers together. “You need to know who he is, son. Go ahead and open it.”

Alec refused. “I know who he is far better than you ever will.”

Maryse wiped her hands on her apron and turned to face him. Any warmth that had been on her face moments ago was long gone. “Are you sure about that?”

Alec glanced between his parents. “This is why you asked me to come here, isn’t it?”

Robert tipped his head as if he was confused why that would be a problem. “We’re only doing what we think is best for you, Alexander.”

“Don’t call me that,” Alec seethed.

“Alec, please,” Maryse said, her voice dripping with condescension. “He’ll sleep with anyone who throws their legs open for him.”

“You realize you just included your _son_ in that list?” Alec spit out. “I can’t fucking believe you. The last time I saw you, you went after him—” Alec clenched his jaw. He should’ve known then that she had done her homework. He should’ve been prepared for this. “But you were so focused on the money Valentine had stolen from me. So is this about Magnus or money?”

Maryse crossed the kitchen and set her palms on the island. “It isn’t about the money. We have all the money we need—managed by Valentine and his son. They’ve done well for the real estate investments we made. They've made the same wise choices with your money and we'll ensure you see every penny comes back to you regardless of how you leave tonight.”

“That money is yours, son. You earned it.”

Alec furrowed his brow. “If this isn’t about money, then why are you doing this?”

Maryse’s features went hard. An echo of the vileness she’d spewed the last he’d seen her. “It’s about _you_ , and the dishonorable choices you’re making. You’ve brought shame to the Lightwood name.”

Alec jabbed a finger at the folder. “You think _this_ is honor?”

 _Fuck_. He was definitely yelling now.

Robert opened the cover of the folder. “Our family has much more honor than Magnus’ father has ever had.”

Alec refused to look down at whatever lies they were trying to foist on him. “Magnus’ father is dead.”

“His stepfather is deceased, yes,” Robert filed through the pages inside. He took out a picture and set it in front of Alec. “But not his biological father.”

Alec’s ears filled with static. His pulse pounded in his temple. He gripped his bracelet until the metal was digging into his palm.

He couldn’t look at that picture and have the knowledge of whether Magnus had his father’s eyes. Didn’t want to be able to place _any_ of his physical features next to Magnus’. Magnus wasn’t the monster who shared biological material with him, and he never would be.

The room had been stripped of oxygen, Alec was sure. He opened his mouth to take a gulp of air, and with that grasp at survival everything finally came into focus.

 _This_ was what he’d been missing. The sense that something was _off_ that neither he nor Magnus could identify….

They'd been expecting an immediate threat from Sebastian, but his parents had nothing but time. It had been nine years since he’d last stepped foot in this house and their problem with him hadn’t changed.

He brought dishonor to the Lightwood name because he was gay. And they would never stop trying to change that. To change him.

They could afford to take as long as they needed to in order to find exactly the right ammunition against him. They could—and would—take down whomever they needed to get what they wanted. They would wear him down, piece by piece, tearing away at everything he had built for himself, all the people that mattered to him, until he was cowering at their feet, begging for their acceptance.

It didn't matter how strong, or how in control, or how powerful he felt. They wouldn't stop until they broke him.

Alec slammed his chair back. “You’re never going to give up, are you? Not until you have the perfect straight son you can parade around at political functions?”

“We don’t care about the…unorthodox choices you’ve made for your life,” Maryse said with complete calm. “There are simply other, more respectable, men then Magnus Bane.”

Their problem wasn’t Magnus, and Alec knew it.

“Fuck you.”

And he walked out.

 

****

 

Magnus studied Clary’s reaction carefully. It was merely luck that they were the only two IE employees on the floor. Otherwise he never would’ve had this conversation here.

“Magnus, this is serious,” Clary said. “If Max or Simon is caught—“

“I know, biscuit. But the harm is already done. At this point they just need to finish up their work without being caught. As your boss, I can’t ask you to help—this is so far out of the scope of your professional duties it’s unethical. But as Alec’s friend….”

Clary shook her head. “He’s my family. And so are you. What do you need me to organize?”

Magnus handed her the jump drive Max had given him. “Make sure to disconnect your laptop from wi-fi before plugging this in. And don’t use a computer here.”

“Good thing I know an attorney,” Clary mumbled, just as the elevator doors opened.

Magnus’ stomach dropped when he saw Alec emerge. Even if it hadn’t appeared as if he was on the verge of tears, Magnus would’ve known something had gone horribly wrong at his parents. It was the only reason he would go against Izzy’s strict orders and show up here.

Magnus was frozen in place. “Alexander?”

“We need to talk.”

 

****

 

Alec shifted on his feet as Magnus closed them into his office.

Despite every cell in his body screaming that he needed to wrap Magnus in his arms, Alec kept his distance.

“It wasn’t fine,” Magnus noted. “Dinner at your parents.”

Alec shook his head.

So far beyond _not fine_ he didn't know where to start.

“What was the leverage this time?”

Alec couldn’t say the words out loud. “It doesn’t matter. They won’t quit and you—”

Alec swore under his breath. He understood now. He’d spent the entire drive back into the city with the cacophony of his thoughts for company, and now he knew exactly what had been going through Magnus’ head when he'd decided that giving Alec an out was the only logical solution. But Alec knew that if he offered the same to Magnus, he would never willingly take it.

He had to try, though.

“You’re lying to your boss for me, Magnus. Laying your job on the line every single day.”

“I'm willing to take that risk for you, you know that.”

Alec winced.

Magnus held his hand out, silently imploring Alec to listen. “Maybe if we slowed things down a bit…. Gave ourselves time to figure out what needs to happen next.”

“But all of this is because of _me_ ,” Alec protested, the volume and raggedness of his voice rising with each painfully true word. “Sebastian wants my money. My parents want my compliance. You’re being threatened because of your relationship with _me_. I can’t have any more harm come to you because of me. I can’t.”

“Harm? Alexander, I’m not in any danger—”

“They tracked down your father!” Alec yelled, his voice catching on a stifled sob he’d been holding onto for too long. “The man who raped your mother.”

Magnus paled. “They what?”

Magnus was shaking, shoulders hunched forward and tears forming in his shock-darkened eyes. He looked just as wrecked as he had the night he’d stood in Alec’s apartment, forced to unearth his past to Alec and Izzy because of Sebastian’s ultimatum.

 _Alec_ was the reason that old wound was being torn open over and over again.

He had to make sure Magnus understood just how much worse it could get. “They had a picture of him. A whole file on— They’re not going to stop.”

“So you’re going to give in to them.”

There was no question there, and yet no judgment. Of course there wasn’t. Magnus hadn’t judged him once since they’d pushed past their initial hatred for each other.

“This isn’t a hockey game, Magnus. I don’t know how to stop them.”

 _Not yet_.

He’d keep fighting as long as he was standing. He could bear the brunt of their attacks—both his parents and Sebastian—but there was only one way to immediately keep Magnus out of the crossfire. He’d been too selfish, pushing for what he wanted when he’d known what the consequences could be. He’d just thought that the burden of _them_ would fall primarily on him, not Magnus.

He had to take all of it off Magnus’ shoulders. Had to protect him. He owed Magnus this much.

Magnus shook his head. “Neither of us knows what to do, but that doesn’t matter. We’ll fight through it together.”

 _You are worth so much more than I am_ , Alec thought. _You are worth fighting for._

“No,” he said out loud. “We won’t.”

Magnus froze.

Alec drew his shoulders back. Steeled himself. “You were right last week—when you said I haven’t thought enough about the consequences.” He tossed Magnus’ words back at him. Sliced at Magnus’ vulnerabilities as if what he was saying didn’t cut him just as deeply. “I never should’ve asked you to come to Pittsburgh.”

“I don’t regret it, Alexander,” Magnus said with the gentleness that Alec knew was woven throughout Magnus’ soul. “And I know you don’t either.”

Alec clenched his jaw.

Magnus wouldn’t give up on them—on _him_.

Unless Alec gave him a reason to.

He knew exactly what to say to drive Magnus away. What words would wound him beyond repair. _I do deserve better than you. You’re not worth the trouble._ But he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t hurt Magnus more than he already had—than he was going to.

He squared his shoulders. Shut down all emotion. It was just as natural as putting on a pair of skates. “You and I— Getting involved with each other was a mistake.”

He knew his words had hit their mark when Magnus stopped shaking and stalked across the office, brushing past Alec without making contact.

“A mistake,” Magnus repeated. He stood behind his desk and crossed his arms.

His voice was cold.

Alec’s heart was beating out of his chest, yet he knew outwardly he appeared calm. Cruel.

He had to hope that he’d find a way out of this. Find a way to destroy every threat against the man he loved. He could only hope that someday, Magnus would forgive him.

Even if Magnus never forgave him, at least he would be safe.

Magnus sniffed, his chin tipping up defiantly. “If you change agents now, your negotiations will be irreparably harmed.”

Time and time again when Alec asked for anything Magnus always said yes.

“I still need you as my agent.” Alec swallowed. He took off his bracelet and held it out for Magnus. He didn't understand how every cell in his body didn’t fly apart from the loss of that tether around his wrist. “Nothing else.”

 

****

 

Magnus accepted the bracelet, the warmth of Alec’s skin still radiating from the metal.

He knew what Alec was doing. Ending things between them to pull Magnus out of harm’s way….

Or was he?

There was a slinking uncertainty sliding through his veins that had been there since the moment he’d stepped foot in the Pittsburgh conservatory and wondered if Alec really wanted him there….

No, that doubt had been there all along. It was insidious. A seed planted by the people who were supposed to love him the most in the world, which had only grown with each rejection he faced. With each tragedy he caused.

He was forever stained with the blood of his stepfather on his hands and the blood of his biological father running through his veins—a man who was apparently alive, and whose identity Alec’s parents had forced upon Alec….

Magnus held his breath.

Maybe he only wanted to believe that Alec was trying to protect him, and the truth was vastly different.

Maybe Alec had seen the monster who had created him, and had come to the same conclusion as Camille—that Magnus carried too much baggage to be worth the effort or the trouble.

That he was too damaged to love.

Magnus dared to meet Alec's eyes. To see, and fully recognize, the coldness focused on him. “Your career has to come to first, of course.”

Alec didn’t flinch. Didn’t deny that.

It was all the answer Magnus needed.

He breathed through the vice crushing his chest. Whether or not Alec believed it, Magnus was a man of his word.

He tossed the bracelet into the trashcan as if it didn’t matter and faced Alec.

“I’ll see you at the negotiating table.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re going through some heavy emotional growth right now, so give these two time to get it right and settle into the magnus and alec we love, k?
> 
> i really fucking wish antarctica wasn’t so cold this time of year. but since i’d like to live to get ch 17 to you, that’s where i’ll be! not on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic at all ♡ xx


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> change is inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. here we are less than a week away from yet another hiatus and this fic still isn’t done. wtaf. at least we’ll still have eight chapters to go to fill _this_ hiatus, right???? 
> 
> *sigh*
> 
> soooooo remember when my author note at the beginning of ch 6 said that 6k words was the longest by far? and then things started spiraling out of control from there? well, we haven’t quite broken out of that tailspin yet. this chapter is just about 40k words. i have lots of excuses this time. lots of them. and plenty of regrets too….
> 
> this should be fun!!!
> 
> as usual, i’ll be reading anything you live tweet with #itsb, but i won’t be responding to anything or retweeting until the chapter has been live for at least 24 hours to avoid spreading spoilers. same thing goes with tumblr. send me in your asks or tag me on posts tho! i’ll be reading them even if i don’t respond right away.
> 
> so much love to @magicandarchery and @sarcasticlightwood who kept my head above water through this chapter. and to @warlocksass and @malec-on-ice for battling through early drafts and reassuring my fragile writer ego. i owe y’all so many fucking drinks.
> 
> come to think of it, i pretty much owe _all_ of you a round of drinks. if you ever run into me at a bar, the first drink is on me.
> 
> i’m relatively sure there’s no new hockey terms in this chapter. just a quick reminder that the angels are headed into the conference finals, which is the last round of the playoffs before the championship series. this round, like the others, is "best of seven"—one team has to win four games to move on to the next round.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of violence, arson, child abuse, and a sexual assault previously discussed. also an ableist asshole character and shitty, gaslighting parents of good kids (who deserve way better)
> 
> as always, if i've missed a trigger warning please let me know.

Magnus curled his knees into his chest and tried to force himself back to sleep.

He wasn’t ready to be awake, but it didn’t matter how tightly he tried to wrap his body into a shape that would hold himself together, the hollow ache in his lungs was spreading, demanding just as much attention as the sun steadily rising through his window.

He snatched his phone off the nightstand to check the time, blinking tiredly as he tried to bring his vision into focus. Less than two of hours of sleep wasn’t nearly enough to deal with the full crushing weight of his new reality. The lack of notifications on his home screen brought the ache in his chest into stark relief—there wouldn’t be any good morning texts from Alec today.

Alec had broken up with him.

Magnus dropped his phone to the bed and clamped his too-swollen eyes shut. He’d told Alec he didn’t regret going to Pittsburgh—he did now. But not nearly as much as he regretted the morning they’d spent in this bed. The roughness of his wrinkled shirt was like Alec’s beard scratching languidly against his chest. The shaking of his body like the rumble of Alec’s low, guttural moan as Magnus took him apart. He held private knowledge of how the touch of Alec’s calloused hands felt lingering on his skin—as if he was wanted, needed. Loved.

Magnus couldn’t reconcile those intimate memories with the cold, detached man who’d stood in front of him last night. A man whose silence had stated that his career indeed came first. No matter how much he attempted to place Alec’s actions over the last two months into a pattern of a man who loved him, Alec had relinquished that bracelet with heartless, unemotional ease.

Magnus was foolish and too quick to fall in love. He’d hoped for more than had ever been possible.

The mattress dipped and Magnus reluctantly opened his eyes to find the Chairman peering down at him.

“Please tell me Alec is in the shower right now and everything about last night was a horrible nightmare.”

His vocal chords protested the movement, scratched ragged with the shallow breaths he dragged into his lungs.

Chairman sat down and began licking his paw. At least Magnus wasn’t completely alone.

He thumped his head into the pillow and dug his hands into his eyes to stave off another round of self-pity. He remembered the entire conversation last night, not just the end, and his heart picked up a rhythm that kicked against his breastbone and reverberated through each of his bones.

His biological father was alive—traceable through criminal records for anyone who knew Magnus’ birth name. But was it possible his father knew who he was too?

The thought hadn’t occurred to him until now and it terrified him.

His earliest memories were of consuming waves of fire and pungent, black smoke. Of his home nearly burned to the ground by a man who—he’d come to learn much later—had just been released from prison for assaulting Magnus’ mother. A vicious man who’d sought vengeance because his stepfather had pursued legal retribution for the bastard son he now had to care for.

In the remnants of that destruction, his stepfather had come after him with violence. The echoes of reddened welts he’d swiped clean with a charred rag still burned like fire on his skin. That day had decimated his trust just as thoroughly as his home. He hadn’t understood then why his stepfather had hated him as much as he did.

He still didn’t understand now.

The remembered, consuming terror displaced the sharp ache in his chest. His hands fisted into the blanket so tightly that his knuckles whitened. He’d only discarded his jacket when he’d fallen into bed, and the starched collar of his shirt pressed against the side of his neck, like the memory of a dulled knife pressed to his throat forcing him to maintain silence. Violent shudders wracked through him at the freshness of the sensation even though it should have been buried decades in the past.

Unlike when he’d stood next to that river and wanted, needed, to scream for help, it wasn’t as if he had anything to say now, though. His throat was dry and scratchy from all of the words he’d held back from saying last night.

He’d thought Alec cared for him, possibly loved him. But Alec finding out about Magnus’ biological father could’ve changed all of that. It was one thing for Alec to hear a story of violence and tragedy, another to understand that part of Magnus’ life wasn’t over.

Magnus threw back the blanket, sending Chairman hissing off the bed, and got to his feet. His vision swam and his knees threatened to buckle, but Magnus stripped out of the confinements of his dress shirt and suit pants, then scrounged through his drawers for something that didn’t make him feel quite as claustrophobic in his own skin.

He attempted to keep himself on the task at hand, but his thoughts were tripping through his head in a cascade that forced him down to the depths of his bottom drawer, seeking old things that were of comfort. Even when he had his fingers around well-worn cotton, he couldn’t stop the torrent of considerations pushing every other thought away.

He’d believed that he’d be safe in a city as massive as New York. Yet, he’d placed himself in the spotlight by aligning himself with a man who drew international attention. He’d invited the wrath of Alec’s parents by choosing Alec’s side, and their cruelty had brought his past to his new life.

Magnus sneered at his reflection and swiped at the dark circles under his eyes. He was furious at Alec, but even more so at _himself_. He’d fought to keep Alec at his side, but he should have known the end was coming. Just as Magnus had feared, Alec had decided he was better off without Magnus.

He was cursed to destroy every relationship he touched.

He was _toxic_.

That vehement self-hatred twisted in his brain and crept through his veins, pushed along by the snarling echo of his stepfather’s voice ringing in his ears. He watched his eyes widen in the mirror and his throat bob with thick swallows when he realized he was on the verge of sabotaging himself.

He’d intentionally lived a life of kindness. He was worthy of respect. Of love.

He _wasn’t_ toxic.

He’d offered Alec a door that was always open to him, a promise to protect him, and gifts that carried the conviction of his emotions. He’d proven himself over and over again through action and words, and had just begun to accept that Alec saw something to love in him too.

How could he have been so wrong?

Magnus swiped his hair off his forehead with shaking hands and fought to catch his breath. He was exhausted, confused. But no matter what he considered, or how many times he repeated their conversation in his head to make it less surreal, one thing didn’t change….

Alec was done with him.

Magnus flopped back into the bed and covered his head with the duvet.

He didn’t have to go into the office since it was Saturday. If he stayed in his loft he was going to wallow.

“Then wallowing shall be the order of the day,” he said through the blanket.

Chairman mewled unhappily.

“You’re right. One hour, not a full day.”

He’d give himself one hour to get out of bed—he had to seek out his old contacts in Indonesia to ensure that he was safe. Then, tomorrow…. Tomorrow he had work to do. Despite Alec breaking his promise not to walk away from Magnus, Magnus wouldn’t do the same.

He still had to free Alec from Sebastian Morgenstern.

 

****

 

Alec’s stomach bottomed out as the Angels’ plane hit another spot of turbulence.

He sat in the aisle seat, next to Jace as usual, and scrolled through his phone. Or at least, pretended to so Jace—who was currently hunched over in his seat, shooting Alec blatant, accusatory glances—didn’t see an opening to go on the attack.

Alec ignored Jace’s silent tantrum and flipped through his apps trying to find something to occupy himself. He refused to open his photos because he knew the last set would be from the morning he’d spent at Magnus’ loft. Of Magnus grabbing Alec’s phone and clicking off a ridiculous stream of pics of Alec getting dressed, Magnus trying to undress Alec again, then the two of them wrapped around each other—Magnus’ lips on his cheek as he held the phone up to get them both in the frame. Alec didn’t know if he’d ever seen himself smile that big in any photo.

He couldn’t look at them, but he couldn’t erase them either.

He couldn’t even put his headphones on because _The Charioteer_ was the first book in his library, and the last playlist he’d listened to was the collection of songs that reminded him of Magnus. There was absolutely nothing on his screen that could hold his attention for long since there were no texts from Magnus—but why would there be?

At that thought, the plane shuddered almost as violently as Alec did and, in the seats across the aisle, Mathieu Bergeron swore out loud in French when his coffee splashed over his hand. Normally Jace would’ve given Bergeron shit for that, but he was glaring at Alec—just like he had been since they’d met up at the arena and Jace had known something was wrong as soon as he laid eyes on Alec.

Alec hadn’t told Jace anything about last night yet. They had a game tonight, the first one of the conference finals, and that was all Alec needed to be thinking about. Everything else—including the twisting of his stomach and the profound waves of loss that washed through him at irregular, heart-stopping intervals—had to be buried deep if he was going to make it through today.

“Are you going to tell me now what’s going on?” Jace demanded in a harsh whisper.

Alec glanced around the cabin to make sure Jace hadn’t drawn any attention, then leaned on the armrest in the aisle and went back to staring blankly at his phone.

Seconds later a text popped up on his screen—from Jace. _Wtf is up with u?_

Jace was getting pissed. He only shortened his texts when he’d lost all patience.

Alec glanced over his shoulder, his jaw tight. “Don’t, Jace.”

Jace furrowed his brow and typed again. _It’s obviously something u don’t want 2 say out loud. Type it. Get it the fuck out of ur system_

Alec’s finger hovered over the keyboard. Telling someone else, even the simple act of putting those words on the screen, made it more real. Undeniable.

It made him heartsick.

_I broke up with Magnus last night_

Jace swore out loud, and across the aisle, Mathieu took that as a commentary on their in-air instability instead of the bomb Alec had just dropped on their captain. “Rough air on this trip, Wayland.”

Jace grunted dismissively at Bergeron and jabbed his finger angrily at the screen.

_WHY THE FUCK WOULD U DO THAT????_

This was exactly what Alec had been trying to avoid. He didn’t need anyone questioning his motives. Especially when he was having trouble stomaching the consequences of his actions.

_It doesn’t matter why. I ended it_

Alec sent that message and met Jace’s wide-eyed gaze with defiance.

Jace glared at him and hunched over his phone, typing furiously.

_If u tell me it was because of that nubby dick Morgenstern or ur narcissistic parents then I’m gonna pop the emergency exit door and take a 30000 foot vacation from your martyrdom_

Alec scowled.

Jace was seething. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Alec ground his jaw, trying to formulate an answer, but Jace’s thumbs were already flying over the keyboard.

_Breaking up with him solves nothing and only makes ur negotiations more tenuous. Who the hell is going to take on ur contract now???_

Alec gritted his teeth and prepared for the fallout that would come with this answer. _He’s still my agent_

Jace’s jaw dropped. “Are you Alec Lightwood? I don’t recognize you right now.”

He didn’t recognize himself.

Jace scoffed out loud, and turned to the window, jaw muscles tensing as he held in whatever he wanted to say. Lingering anger wasn’t going to be productive to them playing together tonight, but Alec couldn’t help but bite back. It was his fucking life and he’d made the only decision he could in the moment.

_Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m going to be distracted?_

Jace’s cell vibrated in his hand and when he saw the message from Alec, he clutched the phone so tightly the NYBA-emblazoned case creaked. This time Jace’s response was typed out slowly, with thought. Alec braced himself for an attack that would be even more vicious than Jace’s grammatically incorrect rant.

_Obviously you’re not. Your heart is as bitterly frozen as a fucking Siberian rink if you broke up with him AND kept him as your agent._

Alec glared at the period at the end of Jace’s text, threw down his phone, whipped off his seatbelt and stumbled his way to the back of the plane to an empty seat.

The turbulence was worse here, but if he got sick at least he’d have an excuse…besides heart-wrenching regret.

 

****

 

“My god. Is that _you_ , Magnus?”

Magnus cringed at the tone of Ragnor’s voice and halted his steps on the cracked sidewalk as he turned toward his friend. Ragnor’s eyes widened as they ran over Magnus’ splotchy, makeup-free face, and down to the faded college t-shirt and ripped jeans he’d rummaged from the bottom of his drawer. He’d needed comfort this morning, and even more, he hadn’t wanted to look like himself as he set out on this particular errand.

“I can’t say for sure,” Magnus answered.

Ragnor gripped the paper bag in his arm tighter, and ran a hand through his graying hair. “Alec’s fault or yours?”

Magnus didn’t know how to answer that, but he was more annoyed by Ragnor’s compulsion to plunge directly for the truth. “Why are you in Brooklyn? I thought it had become too bourgeoisie for you?”

“Shopping for rare texts.” Ragnor shifted the bag to his other arm and opened the door of the bar they were standing in front of. “Inside. Now.”

Magnus huffed but still complied. The interior of the bar was one of the last untouched establishments in this section of Brooklyn. The walls still held the scent of tobacco and—Magnus eyed the peeling wallpaper—likely the stains of prohibition era bathtub gin. The booths were massive with cracked leather and sticky tables, but after picking up two shots from a bartender who looked as if he was still half-asleep, Ragnor didn’t hesitate to take a seat and toss his bag down next to him.

Ragnor pushed one shot across the table to him. “Magnus, you’re wearing a beanie.”

Magnus tugged at the edges of the knit cap self-consciously. He wasn’t even quite sure where this cap had come from in the first place. It wasn’t something he ever would’ve purchased, yet it had still had the tags on it when he extracted it from his coat closet.

“I didn’t do my hair.”

Ragnor downed his shot and leveled Magnus with a death stare. “A _beanie_.”

“At least it’s not green,” he retorted.

Ragnor set his elbows on the table and put his face into his hands. “For the sake of my sanity, please tell me what happened so I don’t have to stop over at the occult bookstore to figure out how to extract a possible demon from you. I hear exorcisms are messy affairs.”

Magnus sniffed. He fingered the shot glass then sent it back across the table to Ragnor instead of downing it. “Someone seeking to harm me tracked down my biological father. I can’t be sure whether or not there’s a chance he also knows who and where I am, so I need to make some calls.” Magnus extracted the disposable cell he’d picked up at an electronics store and set it on the table. “I haven’t been nearly paranoid enough, but I’m learning.”

Ragnor winced and upended the second shot down his throat. “Morgenstern?”

“That’s part of what I’m trying to find out. The woman who ran the orphanage I lived in is very well connected. I haven’t spoken to her since I left….”

“Yet you’ve always made sure she was taken care of. I know, my dear friend. That is all rather…concerning, indeed, but much less concerning than other defensive tactical plans you’ve had to enact before. However, a trip to purchase a burn phone wouldn’t have resulted in you leaving your apartment looking like a frat boy the morning after a kegger.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Magnus prepared to defend his position, but Ragnor sat there quietly studying him. “Very well.”

“That’s it?”

Ragnor picked up his bag and stood. “Call me when you need me—as you always do.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, because he knew that was the reaction Ragnor was waiting for.

“In the meantime….” Ragnor held out his hand. “Give me the cap.”

Magnus spluttered.

“Dear god, you have _standards_ , Magnus, and I certainly shouldn’t be the one maintaining them.”

Magnus relinquished the mysteriously acquired beanie, then pulled the leather cord bracelet off his wrist, twisting his hair off his forehead.

“Better,” Ragnor commented. He clapped a hand to Magnus’ shoulder and led them back into the streets again. “I’m going to phone Catarina as soon as we part, so don’t ignore her when she calls. She doesn’t like it when you conveniently forget she exists simply because she can get things out of you that no one else can.”

He would answer her, and Ragnor…when he was ready—and both of them knew that. “I’ll set my ringtone for her to Don’t Let Me Down.”

Ragnor shook his head fondly and ambled his way around the corner.

Magnus turned toward his loft and was immediately assaulted with a massive billboard showcasing the cut of Alec’s abs and the hard lines of his hip. He forced his feet into movement and ripped his eyes away from the towering image. He couldn’t think about Alec right now.

Magnus arrived home without running into Max and stripped away the plastic around the phone. It was already charged out of the box, so Magnus brought out the nearly ancient contact book he kept addresses and phone numbers in and dialed.

“ _Halo_?”

In his mind’s eye, he could see the tiny, formidable woman who had answered. Hands wrinkled from sun, dust, and cleaning mountains of dishes. Jet black hair swooped up off her nape in a simple contemporary style. Teeth that were yellowed and cracking, because the care of the children had always come before her own needs.

Magnus cleared his throat, and greeted the woman in his mother tongue. “Hello, Ibu Siti. It is your fashionable hellion.”

She inhaled sharply, and his birth name scratched over her vocal chords, worn thin with age and time.

Magnus dug his knuckle into his eye. “I don’t go by that name anymore.”

His birth name didn’t belong to him any longer, yet the utterance of it with kindness, instead of anger, was like a welcome guest tapping at a rarely used door. The possibility of reopening that part of his life was always there, but seldom explored. Siti standing on the other side of it made the prospect much less painful.

“And what do you call yourself now?” Siti asked.

He may have been using a disposable cell to mask his location, but he had the feeling Siti had unwittingly played a part in connecting his two lives. “Magnus Bane.”

Siti sighed. “Then we have something we need to discuss besides where you’ve been, _buah hatiku_.”

As they talked, the intonations of Indonesian were familiar in his heart, thick on his tongue from years of disuse, and jumbled in his head for brief moments, but Magnus understood all too well what his foster mother was telling him. He hung up the phone with one burden relieved—his mother’s assailant had made many trips to prison and the most recent would keep him there for the rest of his life.

Magnus sagged into a chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. He was safe, but that brought him very little peace. Hearing that Siti had been manipulated and used because of him made Magnus sicker than any threat against him could.

Magnus ignored the churning of his stomach, and picked up the burn phone again. Based on the guidance provided by Siti, he made three more phone calls, then he had no choice but to break his self-imposed bubble to text Max with a list of names that he was sure would lead directly back to Sebastian Morgenstern.

As far as he knew, Alec still wasn’t aware of what Max was orchestrating. If Alec had known—if Magnus had _told_ him—would that have changed anything that had happened last night? Doubt lingered in his thoughts, attempting to steer him toward a belief that Alec really was trying to protect him.

He righted himself against the listing of his emotions and pushed himself out of his chair. There was only one solution for his uncertainty. He tromped to the refrigerator to down the first of many pints of ice cream.

He was on the second canister when a knock echoed from his front door. Magnus glared at the door, then the blackened screen of his phone. He’d turned it off for a reason. The knock came again and Magnus dropped his spoon to the counter with a huff.

He peeked through the security peephole in the door and took a deep breath as he opened the door for Clary.

She was rifling through her bag, not even looking at Magnus as she began to prattle on. “I was over at Izzy’s dropping off those files you asked me to work on. Apparently, the last of Max’s furniture is being delivered today and he wanted to keep focused on Sebastian, so he asked me to come by. He said you had to be working because you weren’t answering your cell—” Her gaze finally came up to meet Magnus’, eyes widening as she took him in. “You’re not working.”

Magnus didn’t give her any kind of reaction. He knew his current state of post-apocalyptic fashion spoke for him.

“What happened after I left last night?” Clary asked quietly. “Alec looked wrecked when he stepped out of that elevator, and now you…. What’s going on, Magnus?”

Unlike Ragnor, there was no point trying to put Clary off—she wouldn’t leave him alone until she had an answer. “Alec ended things between us.”

The next thing Magnus knew he had a fiery redhead clamped around him. “Oh, Magnus. Tell me what happened.”

Magnus stood there stunned for a moment then slowly closed his arms around her. He’d pushed all thoughts of Alec aside for as long as he could today, but now his throat burned and his eyelids were like sandpaper as he blinked back tears. “I don’t know if I can.”

A hiccupping choked sound squeaked from her throat. She let him go and dropped her bag to the floor.

She led him to the couch and tucked him in, placing a blanket over his legs. “You never push me to talk when I’m not ready, and you don’t have to say anything now. We can just sit and watch TV while I wait for the delivery truck. I’ll make you tea.”

Despite her willingness to let him sit in silence, Magnus found himself telling her everything as she flitted around the kitchen then back to his side. When he’d finally finished spilling it all, the cup in his hands was going cold, and Clary had worked herself through more Kleenex than Magnus had.

“Do you think you need to worry about your biological father even though he’s in prison?”

“Logically? No. But there’s little that’s happened in the last few months that’s followed any train of logic.”

“Alec _is_ trying to keep you out of harm’s way. You know that, right?”

Magnus stared into his cup, unable to meet Clary’s eyes. He remembered months ago when Simon had told him that Alec couldn’t even lie to himself. Last night, Alec had spoken of needing to make sure Magnus wasn’t in danger anymore, then breaths later about unconsidered consequences and a mistake—that _Magnus_ was a mistake.

Then there was Max’s contention that Alec had a penchant for self-sacrifice. It was so _Alec_ to throw himself on a sword only to discover he could’ve simply picked it up. But this was also the same man who had gone out of his way to build and lead a double life for the last decade. Which Alec was the real one?

Magnus swallowed down his unease with cold tea. “Or he’s sparing my feelings. Making it appear as if he’s protecting me, yet fed up with the drama I brought to his life. He wouldn’t be the first.”

“He loves you, Magnus.”

Magnus cringed. “If he does, then that obviously wasn’t enough.”

“Or maybe too much,” Clary chided him.

“Either way it doesn’t matter—Alec’s done with me.”

Clary toyed with her rings. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Just like him, she didn’t have a better answer to how abruptly they’d ended.

“Can we keep this between the two of us for now? I know Simon is your best friend, but considering that he’s married to Alec’s sister…. I don’t—” Magnus stopped himself. Alec had enough complications in his life. By cutting Magnus free there was one less now, and Magnus adding to that list would only be spiteful. “I don’t want to make anything harder on Alec.”

Clary’s eyebrows shot up. “Izzy and Max don’t know?”

“I can’t tell you whether they do or not. What Alec tells them is up to him.”

“Magnus….” Clary clasped his hand. “I’m worried about you.”

There was nothing in his life that had come easy—he’d had to earn it all. Finding his way back to normal after Alec was going to be just as hard.

“I’ll be fine,” he stated with as much strength as he could muster. “I always am.”

“Don’t do that. You don’t have to with me.”

“I know that. But I need to think that way for my own peace of mind right now.”

Clary nodded. “Usually this would be where I would say if you want them back then fight for them. But this? Alec is the one who needs to fight for you.”

Magnus grimaced. He didn’t know if Alec would. Or if he even wanted him to.

“Does Jace know?” Clary asked.

“I can’t answer that either.”

Magnus reached out and twisted a finger in one of her curls, tugging on it gently as he took in how her voice softened when she said Jace’s name. His main focus had been elsewhere after the Angels’ series win against the Penguins, but he hadn’t missed how Clary and Jace had gravitated to each other. They’d been much more familiar with each other than he’d thought they were—Jace’s protection of her more adamant than he’d expected. He remembered now that there had been something she wanted to talk to him about before Jocelyn had interrupted them.

“Not so long ago I was sure there was something wrong with you, now I can’t see a hint of uncertainty in the way you carry yourself. Is that partly to do with him?”

“Jace?” Clary snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth. “I hated Jace when I first met him, but Lydia….” A fierce blush lit her cheeks that had Magnus rearranging his memories of her desk filled with flowers. “She brings out a side of him that most people don’t see. I’m not ready to talk about it, though. Not today at least.”

“Okay.”

Clary squeezed his hand and burrowed under the blanket with him. “I won’t bring up any of this unless Jace does. You get me in the divorce and everyone will just have to be okay with that.”

Magnus winced at her choice of words— _the divorce_. He and Alec hadn’t even been officially dating. The one time he’d said the word ‘boyfriend’ out loud Alec hadn’t directly acknowledged it. Maybe he’d already been drawing away then. Maybe giving Alec keys to his loft had been too much. Maybe—

“Magnus?”

Magnus shook his head to clear it. “My apologies. I drifted away there for a moment.”

“I’m trying to make you laugh, but I’m only making it worse. I can’t believe you and Alec are just…done.”

Magnus sighed. “It’s for the best. He’s young and I was the first man he’d been with in a long time. When he does come out….”—Magnus swallowed back the bile rising in his throat—“he’ll have more options than stamina.”

Clary tightened her hold on him. “I never should’ve brought you his file. I’m so sorry, Magnus.”

Maybe there would be a time when he wouldn’t regret allowing Alec to invade and conquer every aspect of his life, but today wasn’t that day. “Me too, biscuit.”

 

****

 

_Night of Game One_

_(First game of the Conference Finals)_

 

Alec closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, exhaling as he eased his leg out of the stretch. He’d been assigned a sparse room down the hallway from the locker room for his pre-game stretch routine, and normally he would’ve been grateful for the silence. Stretching before the game was usually when Alec shut everyone else out—family, players, coaching staff—and settled into his headspace, but this time….

This session he’d been unable to completely disconnect from the outside world. He’d already shot his superstitions to shit by completely foregoing his game day morning routine, and now his cell phone laid on the floor in front of him. All of the usual suspects had texted him already—except for Magnus. He didn’t have the right to expect a message from him today, and he was tempering his expectations so he wouldn’t be disappointed when that text never came. But he couldn’t turn off his cell yet.

If Izzy had known what had happened, she would’ve said he was punishing himself by leaving his phone on. Maybe he was.

He went through another set of thigh stretches, then reworked his back and shoulders so they weren’t a tangled mess, when his cell pinged. Alec’s heart hammered in his chest at the sight of Magnus’ name.

_The front office contacted me inquiring about moving up your contract negotiation date. I should reply tonight. I recommend you approve the move._

It wasn’t a good luck text, not personal in any way. Merely an agent notifying his client of a status change in the negotiation process. Despite the tone, Alec couldn’t deny the timing of Magnus’ message. It could’ve been coincidence, but Magnus was too well-informed and in control for him not to know. He had the league app on his phone that sent alerts for when games were about to start.

Alec stared at the time displayed above the text. It didn’t matter how sure he was that Magnus was upholding his end of Alec’s superstitions, even when Alec couldn’t. Having that superstition met with anything besides the warmth Magnus had shown him from the first pre-game picture with Max doing Magnus’ nails…. It was devastating. It was erasing the foundation they’d started on—as if the last two months hadn’t even happened.

Alec sank to the floor in defeat. His vision was blurred as he typed out a response.

_That works for me_

What he was agreeing to flew out of his head almost immediately. He would’ve said yes to _anything_ Magnus asked. But he knew with a sickening certainty that Magnus wouldn’t ask anything of him that wasn’t business related. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he tried to think of one thing he could send back, something more he could say, but his mind was an interminable loop of _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_. Instead, he scrolled back through his texts with Magnus, every muscle in his body tightening as he reread the last two months in reverse.

The last time he’d done this he’d been sitting on the High Line, also trying to formulate a response that he knew would never be enough. That foray into their thread had led to him understanding he was falling in love with Magnus. This time, it brought him nothing but a wave of nausea as he took in just how much he’d undone in the act of giving the bracelet back to Magnus. His eyes burned with tears he refused to shed as he came upon the texts between the two of them right after Alec had come out to his coach and the first line.

_Good luck tonight, Alexander_

And his reply— _I don’t need it. I’ve got you :)_

Alec struggled to breathe. To keep his composure.

He’d done the right thing. Pushing Magnus out of his parents’ line of fire was the only choice that he could’ve made…. Right? And even though he didn’t have that bracelet on his wrist, he had the same feathers painted on his mask. He was still carrying his love for Magnus onto that ice….

Love that he’d never admitted to out loud because he was too fucking scared.

Regret slashed through him, but before he could throw his cell against the wall so he didn’t have to see any of their messages anymore, the door to the room slammed open and Jace stormed in, his cell in his hand, fury etching his face in harsh angles.

“You told him that he was a _mistake_?” Jace bellowed.

_Shit_. There was no way Jace would’ve called Magnus about this, so that meant Magnus had talked to Clary. It was only a matter of time before Izzy came after him too.

Alec flinched as he realized the entire first line had followed Jace in.

“I’m sorry, Lightwood,” Emil said, shutting the door behind him. “Jace flipped the fuck out in the locker room after he got some text. We couldn’t keep him out.”

Alec pushed to his feet and focused on Jace. He didn’t understand why Jace was this upset. “I said what I had to. Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway?”

Jace pursed his lips, refusing to answer as he glanced at their audience.

“Whatever. It’s not distracting me so it shouldn’t matter to you.” Alec jabbed a finger at Jace and sneered. “There’s nothing more important than hockey, right?”

Jace lunged toward him and Bat stepped out of the way to let him. “Who the fuck are you and what did you do with my best friend?”

Meliorn yanked Jace back. “This isn’t going to solve anything.”

Jace wasn’t listening to Meliorn at all. He was laser-focused on Alec. “Did you ever consider that you don’t have to carry the weight of the entire fucking world on your shoulders? That I’m out there backing you up in the real world, not just on the ice?”

“How? By telling me to get laid? Well, I did that and it’s only made things worse!”

Jace reeled back as if Alec had actually taken a shot at him.

Emil glanced between them. “Can one of you answer why our co-captains are on the verge of beating the shit out of each other an hour before the conference finals?”

“It’s nothing,” Alec lied through clenched teeth.

Jace huffed. “Apparently it was ‘nothing’ since you wrote him off that easily.”

“Fuck you, Jace. You know—” Alec balled his fist, and his voice caught in his throat. “You know what he means to me.”

“What happened, Alec?” Jace implored, leaning against Meliorn more than he was fighting to get away from him. “Saying that to him…. This isn’t you. Tell me what the fuck happened.”

“My parents threatened him, okay?” Alec yelled. “And not just with money or a job like Sebastian is doing with me. They had information on his biological father.”

Just as suddenly, Jace’s anger was focused elsewhere. “That’s it. I’m calling Max and we’re planning a double murder.”

“I have a shovel I can lend you,” Raphael offered.

Alec glared at Raphael then looked to Jace again. “Max and Izzy don’t know yet. I’m sure Clary already talked to Simon, though. So it’s only a matter of time.”

“She hasn’t. _He_ asked her not to.” Jace met Alec’s eyes with a determined glare. He wasn’t using Magnus’ name. He was still protecting Alec even though he was furious. “He said that how and what you told them was up to you. That he didn’t want to make things harder on you than they already are.”

“Fuck,” Alec rasped.

He dropped to his haunches, all the fight leached out of him, and gripped his hair with both fists, as if he could wrest the pain that wracked through his body if he pulled hard enough.

A silence fell between Alec and Jace, the other four members of the first line watching them warily.

Bat gritted his teeth so hard his jaw flexed. “Our game is the only thing we should be talking about right now. What the fuck is exactly the problem here?”

Alec sucked in a breath. “I ended things with my boyfriend last night because there were threats against him, not just me. Jace disagrees with my…methods.”

“I know you think you’re protecting him by doing this, Alec. But this isn’t right.”

“I know it’s not,” he finally relented. He shot to his feet and began to pace. “But what the hell can I do about that now? I’m across the country from him for the next three days, and only an hour away from the puck dropping. I have to focus on what I can right in this moment. I know there’s more to life than this sport, but it’s all I have right now. And I’m fighting to keep that under control. So you know what? Fuck you for making that harder for me instead of easier!”

Jace’s jaw tightened as he locked eyes with Alec. “You will not fall apart tonight. You will not fail.”

“Why?” Alec spit out. “Because I brought this on myself?”

“Because we won’t let you,” Raphael said.

Alec took a shocked step back at the surety in Raphael’s tone. That wasn’t a threat, it was a promise of support.

Emil nodded. “Our entire team voted you as a co-captain, not just us. We’re all with you on that ice tonight.”

“You won’t fall apart because he knows how hard you’ve worked to get here. _He_ would want you to fight,” Jace added.

Alec set his hands on his hips and sucked in a shuddering breath. “I doubt it if Magnus will even watch the game tonight.”

Jace scoffed. “Then you don’t know him at all.”

“Magnus Bane? Your agent?” Bat asked, head swiveling between everyone to see if they were as surprised as he looked.

Alec cringed, but nodded. He hadn’t meant to say Magnus’ name out loud, but what did it matter now anyway? He was the one who had ended it between them.

“I have to finish this—to get my parents out of my life. Magnus may never forgive me—I may have lost him already, but I have to make sure he’s safe. I have to.”

“Your own parents are threatening him because you’re—” Bat cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Because you’re gay?”

No matter what his mother had said, Alec knew that was their real problem. It didn’t matter who he was dating, there would always be one flaw they couldn’t look past—that the person would be a man.

Alec hung his head. Could barely find the strength to answer. “They think I chose this. But why would I choose something that’s made my life more difficult than it would be if I was straight?”

He saw the moment understanding dawned across Bat’s face. “Jesus—” A muscle in Bat’s jaw ticked. “I get it now.”

Raphael rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I think Velasquez just joined us in 2016.”

Bat flipped Raphael off, then faced Alec again. “I get it. I’m here. One hundred percent.”

“We’re all here fighting with you on that ice.” Meliorn clasped Alec’s arm and pulled him in close. “So we begin by winning tonight. That is something no one can take away.”

 

****

 

Magnus closed the door behind Clary, his promise to call her tomorrow still ringing in his ears. He’d convinced Clary that he didn’t need company for tonight, and she hadn’t pressed. Likely because she’d known.

As soon as she left, Magnus switched on his TV for the pre-game coverage of the Angels’ first game against the Lightning.

His cell phone chirped with notifications from the Puck Me group as everyone readied for the night. Tessa was on Broadway with Will and Jem. Simon, Izzy, and Max were at home so they could continue working. Clary was watching the game with Lydia.

Magnus didn’t respond. Didn’t know what he’d say.

He remembered the madness and passion of being consumed with everything Alec in Pittsburgh. He’d flown halfway across the country because Alec had asked him to. And in this moment—alone, tired, and much more vulnerable than he wanted to admit—he would have boarded a plane for Florida if Alec had called to tell him he’d been wrong and they needed to talk—that Alec needed him. But it didn’t matter how much he wished that were the truth, Alec’s text back to him had been just as concise and impersonal as Magnus’.

Breaking the silence between he and Alec with his pre-game text had been painful, but necessary. If he was going to remain Alec’s agent then they had to be able to discuss business.

It had nothing to do with Alec’s superstitions.

Right.

Magnus watched Alec take to the ice with his heart in this throat. He didn’t care besides furthering Alec’s career. He couldn’t.

If only it could be that simple.

The pressure had been building around him for weeks now. An assault on all fronts that threatened to crush him, and Magnus had stiffened his spine in response. Fortified his will and his walls. He’d hoped he was ready for anything Morgenstern, Imogen, or Alec’s parents could throw at him. He hadn’t thought it would be Alec himself to deliver the most painful blow.

He had to find a way to let Alec go. But that didn’t mean that he loved him any less.

With his only witness a feline that couldn’t reveal his secrets, he switched off his phone, and gave in to desperation to have the ache in his chest disappear.

He slipped Alec’s sweatshirt over his shoulders.

 

****

 

Like every other road game in the playoffs, none of Alec’s family or friends were here, but they all would be watching. Jace saying _he would want you to fight_ repeated over and over in his head in a staccato rhythm drummed out by hands on the glass and the swish of skates through the ice. There was no way for him to know whether or not Magnus would be watching, but he had to play as if Magnus was. As if Magnus cared whether he won or not.

Alec dropped into his stance and focused on the game. The Lightning’s greatest strength was their three starting forwards—a center and two wingers who did the vast majority of scoring. If the Angels were going to win they had to keep the puck off of the sticks of those three Lightning forwards, and also defend against the Lightning’s netminder—who had assisted more goals for this team than any other goaltender in the league.

With the two teams’ forwards and goaltending nearly evenly matched, the deciding factor in this series would likely be the Angels’ D-men. The Lightning’s defense was solid, but not nearly as strong as the Angels’—Velasquez, Pangborn, Bergeron, Bosch, Rousseau, and Hildreth. Alec would be drawing on the strength of their defensive line to make sure he stayed at his best.

Nine minutes into the first period, and neither team having registered a score, it was clear the Angels’ were facing a team that relied more on strategy than speed or brute force. Alec’s teammates looked to him for verbal guidance from the net and Alec fought to push back any thought of Magnus, giving his team all his attention.

Alec took possession of the puck and passed it to Rousseau behind the net. The defenseman held onto the puck as he headed for Lightning territory, flicking his stick back to pass it to Hildreth, where his teammate could get it to the Angels’ forwards. Alec let out a frustrated groan when the Lightnings’ D-man intercepted the pass with his hand, dropping it to the rink where the three forwards shot up the ice in perfect sync.

The center picked up the puck, speeding toward Alec. Hildreth and Rousseau pushed in, pressing the Lightning forwards together so they couldn’t set up for an easy shot on goal. Hildreth muscled his shoulder against the centerman, sending the puck careening across the ice, where it was easily picked up by the undefended winger as the Angels’ forwards made their way back into the defensive zone.

Alec registered the twitch of the winger’s wrist and the pivot of his left foot, skates digging into the ice as he brought his stick all the way back and slammed it forward with brutal force. The puck whipped into the center of Alec’s mitt and the impact left painful reverberations lancing down his entire arm.

Alec’s breath caught in his chest as he tried to shake off the stinging sensation when the refs called a stoppage of play.

Jace came off the bench for the faceoff and he stopped in front of Alec. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Alec mumbled. He couldn’t feel his elbow, but he couldn’t remember if he was _supposed_ to be able to feel his elbow.

Jace slapped his glove against Alec’s chest. “Don’t pull this martyr shit on me right now. I said, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jace,” Alec spit out.

He crouched down, ignoring the flaring of pain in his hand, and set himself up for the faceoff.

Jace clenched his jaw and took his spot at the circle without another word.

The next five minutes left Alec scrambling to defend as he fought against the spreading numbness in his arm and the frustration building in his gut. All of his teammates hung closer to the goal, fending off any outright attacks as they sacrificed the potential for an Angels’ score by doing Alec’s job for him.

The horn ending the first period sounded and Alec retreated to the tunnel as fast as he could, removing his mitt and flexing his hand. Alec dropped onto the bench, flipped his cage up, and gestured for Kadir to come over.

Panic itched in his chest. “I can’t shake the numbness from my left arm since that save.”

Kadir went to work on his hand immediately—kneading at the spot that marked his desperate search for Max in the wreckage of a car. Massaging a wrist that used to have Magnus’ bracelet around it. _Fuck_. Wrong decisions. He was always making the wrong decisions that hurt the people he loved.

The numbness spread up his arm in waves that were interspersed with the sensation of needles poking through his skin. The numbness spread through his chest, more and more oxygen vacating his lungs with each desperate suck for air.

“I can’t breathe,” he rasped out, pushing Kadir away. “Hang on. Just…back.”

Jace touched Kadir on the shoulder and Kadir stood, letting Jace take his place.

Jace crouched down and the other four members of the first line formed a semi-circle around him, shielding him from the rest of the chaos of the locker room.

“Everything is so numb, Jace. My hand— Fuck. I can’t fail tonight. Not tonight.”

Jace clasped Alec’s biceps, holding him tight. “I got you, brother. I got you.”

“This hasn’t happened since—”

Jace grimaced. “I know. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth and the feeling will start to come back. Let me know if we have to take off your gear.”

Alec shook his head. Followed Jace’s instructions. “The weight is good. It’s good. It’s just….” A wave of revulsion passed through him. He concentrated on Jace’s eyes—so clear, so sure, even as his own began to fill. “You told me you’d help me not fuck this up with Magnus, but I did it anyway—”

Jace gripped him tighter. “The rest of the team can’t see you like this, Alec.”

“I know.” _Fuck_. Now there were tears spilling down his cheeks. He sucked in a ragged breath, filling his lungs. The numbness began to recede. “I know. I’m okay.”

Jace set his helmet against Alec’s mask. “You’re not. But we’ll deal with all of this later. For now, lean on us. We got you.”

 

****

 

Magnus had hoped that maybe what he was seeing in Alec in the first period was merely him reading too much into it.

But the Angels’ goalie who appeared on the ice for the second period was just as shaken. Alec’s stance was off, his reaction time slower than normal. Each line of the Angels took on more of the slack to keep the puck out of the net.

Alec was falling apart and Magnus didn’t want to believe he knew why that was happening. But this was an Alec he hadn’t seen since that first disastrous game of the playoffs.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Alexander,” Magnus said to the man struggling on the TV.

He couldn’t do this to _himself_.

Magnus shut the TV off.

 

****

 

Alec’s arm wasn’t numb anymore and his knee hadn’t begun to ache, yet his form was sloppy, and every save was too close to lighting up the lamp. Instead of focusing on the game, his brain was spending all of its time processing just how fucked up it was that he was playing in the conference finals for the first time in his career and his fourteen-year-old self could have handled the pressure better.

It took mere minutes for the Lightning to pinpoint how unsteady Alec was. Their forwards pushed harder for the net and the defense set up screens to impede his vision. The game was still zeroes on both side of the scoreboard—but that had little to do with Alec.

The Angels’ defensive line carried the weight of protecting the net through the rest of the second period and into the third. It was a survival strategy that made Alec sick. He was supposed to be their co-captain and he was failing them.

He didn’t care about earning another shut out. He needed Garroway to pull him off the ice for the sake of the team. He couldn’t figure out how to get out of his head, and the game he’d always loved wasn’t doing it tonight because all he could think was _Magnus thinks I gave him up for this_.

With less than a minute left in the third period, the puck flew toward the goal and Alec had no idea where it had even come from. He was too far out of the crease and at the wrong angle, and no matter how he twisted or contorted his body there was no way he was keeping that shot out. The fans roared as the puck began to sail past him, then Bat threw himself in front of the goal sending the puck clattering heavily to the rink and knocking the net out of place. Meliorn swooped in, clearing the puck out of the crease just before it crossed the line. A collective groan went up from the Lightning fans as the refs called play to a stop.

Alec sagged to the ice. If that goal had gone in it would have destroyed the last unraveling thread of control he held onto. His internal battle not to think about Magnus was having an effect on his game— _distracting_ him. And that thought pissed him off even more.

He’d done this to himself and he deserved to fail. But if he gave up now he took his entire team with him. He got up on shaking knees and tugged Meliorn into his arms first, then knocked his helmet against Bat’s.

“Thank you.”

“You won’t fail, Lightwood,” Bat said as he skated backwards, his lips in a thin line. “We’re not letting it happen.”

What was he doing? He hadn’t given in to Sebastian, and he wouldn’t give in to his parents. He’d fought to get to this game, and he’d continue fighting for Magnus.

He wouldn’t fail, because he wouldn’t give up.

Alec set himself against the post and lifted his chin, squaring himself against the oncoming faceoff.

The clattering of sticks echoed off the boards as the ref dropped the puck. Romanov took control, sending the puck up the ice to Stewart, who was bludgeoned into the boards by a Lightning D-man.

Alec watched the puck sliding his way and skated out of the crease, meeting it before any other player could get there. He slammed his stick against the puck and Bosch took advantage of the power behind it to slam it into the Lightning’s net just before the final buzzer sounded.

The Lightning fans shouted in disbelief, and Alec stood tall as his teammates piled on Bosch first, then rushed down the ice to crack their helmets against his.

That goal was his first assist of the post-season, and statistically he had another shutout, but he knew that stat didn’t belong to him.

Jace skated up and circled his gloves around Alec’s neck, drawing him close. “We just won the first game of the conference finals.”

Alec grinned at his best friend. He wasn’t alone on the ice. No matter how solitary he felt, he wasn’t.

And maybe he didn’t have to go it alone off the ice either.

 

****

 

Magnus stared at his computer screen, not seeing one word of the contract he was supposed to be reviewing. His fingertips were hooked around his top desk drawer instead of his keyboard, but no matter how many times he began to open it, he would slam it shut again without really looking inside.

It was Monday—three days since Alec had walked out of this office—and despite his best intentions to make it here yesterday, Magnus hadn’t been able to face the bracelet that sat in his drawer instead of the garbage can where it already would’ve been whisked away by now.

“You have a minute, Magnus?” Clary asked, popping her head in the door after knocking.

Magnus pushed the drawer closed quietly. “Honestly? I could use the distraction.”

Clary stepped inside and sat down on the edge of his desk. “Having trouble working?”

Magnus considered that. He wasn’t having trouble concentrating, he was just concentrating on all the wrong things. He’d resisted so far from searching for highlights from the game Saturday night, but barely. He knew the Angels had won and that Alec had managed to ink another shutout into the record books, but beyond the new page of statistics that would help frame his negotiation tactics, the emotional complexity of how that win had been achieved was a mystery.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

Clary frowned. “Your schedule is open for the next few hours, and there’s someone outside I want you to meet. It’s a crazy idea, but maybe not as crazy as it—”

Magnus held up his hand to stop her and inhaled sharply through his nose. “Who is it, biscuit?”

“Lydia Branwell.”

Magnus startled. “Alec’s PR girlfriend.”

“Alec’s friend,” Clary emphasized. “But her relationship with Alec only matters because she and Alec get along. I know you’re determined to see Alec through his negotiation, but Lydia…. This will all be better coming from her. Will you talk to her?”

Magnus surveyed how Clary was perched on the side of his desk, that same mixed expression of hope and doubt when she’d first asked Magnus to take Alec on as a client. “I’m remembering a similar situation that started much like this. Is this trying to get Alec and I back together?”

Clary shook her head. “Not at all. Will you talk to her and see what you think?”

“Okay.”

Clary covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “I’ll give you a moment to freshen up.”

Magnus opened his top drawer to grab his mirror and compact, frowning deeply when he caught sight of the feather bracelet. For a moment he’d actually forgotten it was there. He definitely needed a distraction.

Magnus hit the button to call Clary once the circles under his eyes were minimized again. “You can show Ms. Branwell in.”

His door opened and Clary beamed as she led the blonde svelte woman inside his office. Magnus had spoken to Lydia over the phone twice now. The first time in Alec’s apartment when they’d discovered her laptop had been hacked to reveal messages between she and Alec and she and Alec’s ex, Raj. Then the second time, after the search warrant that had been served on Alec as a scare tactic. Both of those conversations had been brief and focused on the task at hand. Focused on the one thing they had in common—Alec.

Magnus returned her strong, sure handshake and gave her a professional smile. Despite knowing Alec had no romantic interest in her and never would, Magnus was jealous. She was the envy of many of Alec’s fans, and, unlike Magnus, she’d never had to worry about being seen in public with him.

Before Magnus could take too long to think about why she was here today, or begin the now-familiar sharp descent into melancholy, Lydia smiled. “Thank you for taking the time to meet me, Mr. Bane. It’s good to finally meet you in person. I’m Lydia Branwell.”

“Please call me Magnus, and have a seat.”

Instead of sitting behind his desk Magnus sat down in the chair next to her. He adjusted his ear cuff and crossed his legs. “I’m rather in the dark about why you’re here, Ms. Branwell.”

“Lydia, please.” He nodded. She took a deep breath. “I’ll get right to it then. Jace and Clary recommended I come see you. I want to work for IE.”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow. He hadn’t known what to expect, but this wasn’t it. “I was under the impression you are a lawyer.”

“A contract attorney.”

That was a vital detail he’d been unaware of. Some of the best agents Magnus had had the privilege of working with had been contract attorneys at the beginning of their careers. They understood the intricacies of negotiation in a way that took years more of experience for non-legal staff to acquire. She was around Alec’s age. Refined and sure of herself. She commanded attention in a respectable way—a skill that couldn’t be taught.

Magnus found that all those factors made him want to dig deeper.

He leaned forward. “Please, tell me more.”

“Before I do that, I want to be up front about this. You know that I’ve been attending functions with Alec for almost a year now and the reason why I have, and I know that Alec is making unwise decisions right now because of his fear.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow in surprise. Apparently, she was even more bluntly honest than Alec. “If we’re going to be up front—you don’t know me at all. I have to assume you’re intimating that Alec breaking up with me was unwise.”

“I’m not intimating anything—it’s what I’m saying. But that’s not the point. Or maybe it’s tangential to it?”

She laughed and the lightness of the sound eased Magnus. He liked her.

“Anyway,” Lydia continued, “I’ve been considering a career change since my husband passed away. One that still utilizes my legal experience, but allows me to also interact with people more than paperwork. I can be bristly and appear standoffish, but that’s mostly because I care more than I like to admit.”

“And the rest of it?” he ventured.

“Because I’m tough,” Lydia said without apology. “Jace and I— I don’t want to share more than he’d want me to, but we’ve known each other awhile. He's of the opinion that there isn’t another agent at IE capable of representing Alec besides you. However, it seems that after Alec’s new contract negotiation, it may be better for both of you if that changes. I can make that happen.”

Magnus stared at her, stunned. “You want to be Alec’s agent.”

“I do.” Lydia pulled out a résumé from her purse and handed it to Magnus. “I've been working my way up the ranks at NBC for five years, and before that I graduated summa cum laude from Harvard Law.”

“Impressive,” Magnus replied, duly impressed.

Lydia smiled gently at that. “Harvard’s not always as prestigious as it sounds. I had this professor who always used to say ‘the law is hard, but it is the law.’ He was such a dick.”

Magnus couldn’t help but smile.

Lydia twisted in her chair, the proud set of her shoulders melting into something more companionable. “The law _is_ hard, and so is life, but I haven’t been ground down by it. Neither you nor Alec has to be either. I think we can find a solution here that’s good for all of us.”

There _was_ a possibility here, but more hoops than she may realize. “It usually takes years for a new agent to take on a high caliber client like Alec, then there’s a league certification that must be obtained, not to mention the approval of our preeminent CEO Imogen Herondale.”

“I’ve spoken to Clary about all of this,” Lydia stated, undeterred. “I’m ready to put in the time and work. I think you and Imogen would be impressed at the speed with which I could make this a very real possibility. I intend to earn your respect and trust in record time.”

Magnus set her résumé aside and went straight to the heart of the matter. “And you care for Alec.”

“As a friend, yes. I’ve known Alec just as long as I’ve known Jace—they’re kind of a package deal. We all lost contact for awhile after college, but then I ran into Izzy at this kickboxing class and she told me about Alec needing a date for some restaurant opening…. That was the same night I met Clary, and….” Lydia smiled softly, her voice dropping off. “I’ve gone through a lot of changes in the last year.”

Magnus restrained a knowing smirk. What he was seeing in Clary was plainly mirrored in Lydia when she said Clary’s name.

“Changes are inevitable,” he replied diplomatically.

Lydia brushed a hand over her braid and straightened. “Anyway, yes, I care about Alec, but I also don’t have a problem saying no to him. There’s trust between us, and that’s something I can offer that no one else here can. I think we’d work well together. It would be a much more comfortable and more successful arrangement for all of us.”

Magnus fiddled with his rings as he studied her, going with his gut. He hadn't been trusting it enough as of late. “I’ll set up a meeting for you and Imogen.”

“Thank you, Magnus.”

Lydia’s gratitude felt like a weight off _his_ shoulders.

This solution was already too late for he and Alec as a couple, but maybe it was exactly what Alec needed….

And what Magnus needed to move on.

 

****

 

_Night of Game Two_

_(Conference Finals tally - Angels lead one game to none)_

 

He fucking missed Magnus.

There was no way around it. Magnus had met up with him the last time he’d been on the road, and while it had been mere hours they’d spent together, every second had shifted Alec’s life in an irreparable way.

Going on the road this time, though, was filled with practices and more PR than he’d ever participated in as a player. The success of the Gallant campaign had thrust him into the spotlight and the Angels’ playoff run kept him there. There were more questions about his future and his personal life. New, intrusive questions that required a set of vetted answers that could roll off his tongue without thought.

He practiced his words just as much as his stance—moving forward and yet in a holding pattern. Advancing game by game closer to his goal, and letting his teammates see him for all of who he was. Yet he was waiting for his contract, and waiting for the moment he could confront his parents. Waiting with the hope that he hadn’t broken things irrevocably with Magnus.

_Tom Ford wants you to wear one of their suits to the league awards_ , this pre-game text from Magnus said.

It was still business, yet coming right before the game—like the only other text he’d gotten from Magnus.

_Tell them yes_

He hesitated, then added, _And I owe Santiago two Tom Fords for going to the You Can Play clinic. Think that can happen?_

_I’ll see what I can do_

_Thank you_

Alec watched as the status line under the text went from ‘delivered’ to ‘read,’ and waited to see if the reply bubbles would pop up.

They didn’t.

Alec sighed and turned his cell off.

“How’s today?” Jace asked. He sat across the room from Alec, typing away on his phone as Alec went through his pre-game stretches.

“Better,” Alec replied.

Jace shot him a _don’t-fucking-bullshit-me_ look.

“And worse,” Alec admitted.

“You tell Izzy or Max yet?”

Alec shook his head. “I’ve been texting with Max and I talk to Iz every day with all this PR stuff going on, but telling them about Magnus…? I can’t. I don’t know what I’d say to either of them.”

Jace set his cell on the floor and frowned. “Alec—”

“Don’t push me on this one. I can’t talk to them yet.”

Jace clenched his jaw. “Then what do you need?”

Alec winced at Jace’s choice of words. “I need to figure out how to fix all of…this. Izzy and Max…. I know they’re working on something with our parents, but they just keep telling me to trust them.”

“You don’t?”

“That’s not it.” He was floundering. Without a plan. And he didn't do anything without a plan. “Too much is out of my control. I mean, this”—he swept his hand around the room—“this game I have under control. But the rest of it…?”

“Izzy and Max are working on something with your parents, right?”

Alec nodded. “I’ve been pushing at Max more. It has something to do with real estate transactions, earnings statements, and Valentine’s company. That’s all he’ll tell me. I get the feeling that’s because what he and Simon are doing could get them arrested.”

Jace blanched. “Fuck. And Sebastian?”

“It’s all connected, but in…different ways? I don’t know. He won’t tell me anything about Sebastian besides that he’s got it under control. I get the feeling it could be a lot more illegal.”

“Jesus.”

That was Alec’s reaction exactly. “They’re taking all of the risk—for me and Magnus—while I do what? Play a fucking game? You know I love hockey, but if that goes away I’ll live. But Izzy, Max, and Simon…? I can’t survive if they’re not okay. They’re under too much pressure because of me and I can’t add to that by telling them what happened with Magnus.”

Jace picked up his cell again and started typing. “So I’ll take some of that pressure off, bro.”

Alec eyed his warily. “What are you doing?”

“You said that Sebastian wanted a piece of my next contract, right? I’m going to give it to him.”

Alec pushed to his feet and stalked over to Jace. “What the fuck, Jace? No.”

“I’m not going to fucking sign anything—Magnus would have my head. I’m just going to tell Sebastian I am. It’ll buy all of you some time.”

“Jace—”

Jace’s head snapped up. “They need time and you need it. I _did_ say I’d help you not to fuck this up, and since it already is fucked, let me help you unfuck it.”

Alec took a deep breath, looking down at his best friend. “Then tell him I’m in too.”

“Alec—”

“This is how it is with us,” Alec insisted. “We do this together or not at all.”

Jace grimaced yet hit the call button on his cell. “I need to speak to Sebastian Morgenstern.” He paused and looked up, eyes locking with Alec’s. “Tell him it’s Jace Wayland calling. And tell him I’m with Alec Lightwood.”

Alec’s skin crawled.

 

****

 

“One vodka tonic on the rocks, and one Baysil-Hayden’s neat?” Clary asked, already getting out of her chair.

Magnus flipped his cell onto the table so he wasn’t tempted to see if Alec would text him again, then reached for his wallet. “Let me get this round.”

It was only their second round, but the most he’d drank in weeks. Finding solace at the bottom of a bottle hadn’t helped after the night Alec had first kissed him, and he had the feeling it would be catastrophic at this point. He couldn’t hold himself together with his inhibitions fading out, so two would be his maximum.

“Absolutely not, babes.” Clary playfully pecked Lydia on the cheek. “Lydia is picking up the entire tab tonight.”

Lydia shrugged as Clary bounded for the bar. “It’s a thank you for getting me in to see Mrs. Herondale so quickly. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d want to come out to watch the game at all.”

Magnus glanced around the packed sports bar—filled to capacity with patrons wearing the gold, red, and blue of the Angels. “It was the safest option considering Isabelle and Max still don’t know.”

“You’re sure?”

“If they did, I would have heard from at least Max by now.”

“I wish I could tell you what Alec’s thinking, but I haven’t talked to him either.” Lydia took a sip from her dwindling drink and arched an eyebrow. “It’s not like Alec is a…talkative kind of guy.”

Magnus hummed thoughtfully. The next natural question was exactly how long Lydia had known Alec, how they’d met in college, or why she’d agreed in the first place to play his girlfriend for media appearances, but Magnus didn’t want to go there. He was already on edge—waiting for the moment when he’d be surrounded with multiple views of Alec on TVs hung all around the bar. He hadn’t been able to make it through the first game in the privacy of his home without shutting it off, he didn’t know how he’d make it through this one when he was in public and the images were inescapable.

Magnus cleared his throat self-consciously. “So did Jace really recommend you come see me, or was the mention of his name an addition to soothe my ego?”

“He adores you.”

Magnus quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, as much as Jace can adore anyone who’s not himself,” Lydia clarified with a laugh. “But seriously, he’s been suggesting it for a while now. He’s so sure it will all work out that I think he’s even started to think of me as Alec’s agent.”

“It was his idea,” Clary said as she rejoined them, divvying up their drinks across the table. “But it wasn’t until I said I thought it was a good idea too that Lydia decided it was time to go for it.”

“It _is_ a good idea,” Magnus agreed. “I would wish you luck with Imogen, but you don’t need it. She’ll be impressed by you.”

“We’ll find out tomorrow.”

If it had been any other job applicant, Magnus would’ve been surprised Imogen was moving that fast, but she was ready to see Alec’s situation change. Almost as ready as Magnus was. “So that you’re fully aware, she knows all about the threats to Alec and that there was —” Magnus’ throat caught on the word. The past tense cut at him in a way that felt like a fresh wound. “She knows there was attraction between Alec and me, but she doesn’t know about Pittsburgh, as I’m sure you do.”

Lydia frowned. “I do.”

Magnus twisted his hand in the air. “Not that what happened there is of any consequence now.”

“I doubt she’ll bring any of it up,” Lydia replied tactfully.

“Agreed. I simply didn’t want you to be caught unaware.”

“I hate to keep talking about this, and you don’t have to answer, but I know Alec won’t tell me now….” Lydia glanced at Clary then cleared her throat. “It wasn’t just attraction between you, though, was it?”

“No,” Magnus admitted, his heart skittering in his chest—a broken thing in search of a safe place to rest. “Not for me at least.”

Lydia leaned forward. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“It’s fine. If I choose to live in denial I’ll never be able to move on.”

Clary sighed. Magnus knew she didn’t agree that Alec had changed his mind about his feelings for Magnus. Yet she was loathe to argue when there had been nothing on Alec’s end so far to prove that Alec was still fighting for him.

Magnus merely raised an eyebrow—and his drink to his lips—to her non-verbal response.

Lydia’s shoulders straightened as she glanced between the two of them. “Well then. I know I don’t want to get sloshed because of my meeting tomorrow, so how about we finish these drinks, ditch this place, and go get manicures instead?”

Magnus looked up at the TV screens. This was now the second game in a row he was abandoning, and this time before the puck had even dropped—something he never would’ve considered only four days ago.

Magnus lifted his drink in salute. “That may be the best idea you’ve had all day.”

 

****

 

Alec glared at the scoreboard in disbelief. In the intermission between the second and third periods he’d learned that this was the lowest amount of shots on goal in playoff history—on both sides.

He craved to have a puck crashing against him, but when it came anywhere in the defensive zone it was a fight for possession more than keeping it out of the net.

The Angels were up one to nothing, and that score had only come because of a bad pass late in the second. With the minutes ticking down in the third, Alec had yet to be really challenged. It was almost like not playing at all. He was waiting for something to take action on the ice and waiting for it in his life too. To have some kind of respite from the chaos of the last few weeks should have been a relief, but it only served to amp up Alec’s frustration level.

When the final buzzer sounded on another one point win, Alec accepted the praise of his teammates with a clenched jaw. He’d tied the league record for the most shutouts in the post season, but it meant nothing because he hadn’t even had to fight for it.

As soon as his gear was packed away and the team was headed for the hotel, Alec had his cell in hand.

“Tell me you have enough now,” he begged Max.

On the other end of the line Max grunted unhappily. “It wouldn’t be enough for a court of law, but it’s enough for us.”

Alec gritted his teeth at Max’s insistence of there being an “us” at all. He still wasn’t sold on Izzy or Max going with him to see their parents, but that was a fight for tomorrow. A fight that didn’t matter nearly as much as decimating his parents so Magnus would never have to worry about them ever again.

“Good,” Alec said. “I’m ready.”

 

****

 

Magnus trudged home through a fine mist, watching dark clouds billow over the downtown and river.

As he’d parted with Clary and Lydia, Clary had popped open an umbrella she’d brought with her—mentioning the city was on the verge of being inundated with a weather cell bringing storms to the entire eastern seaboard. They’d offered to split a cab with him, but he’d insisted on needing the fresh air. Like so much of his life lately, he regretted that decision now. He needed to get into the warmth and shelter of home before exhaustion overtook him and he ended up drenched from a sudden downpour.

He was blocks away from his loft when a buzz emanated from inside his jacket. Magnus plucked his vibrating cell out of his pocket, protecting his freshly lacquered nails as best as he could. The name on the screen made his determined steps falter as he considered whether or not to pick up the call.

He hadn’t been avoiding Max per se, but up until now, the most perceptive Lightwood hadn’t spent any time in his Brooklyn apartment and he’d limited his communications with Magnus to text—a medium that allowed more room for creative license than direct conversation. He couldn’t avoid Max forever though—they did live next to each other.

Magnus sought out the shelter of an unoccupied stoop and picked up the call. “Good evening, Max.”

“Hey.” He sounded worn. Exhausted. Magnus frowned. “Have you talked to Alec yet tonight?”

Magnus inhaled sharply. Apparently Alec still hadn’t told Max about the break up.

He kept his answer honest and succinct. “No.”

“My buddy Julian, that detective I told you about…. He confirmed that the info we have is solid. The team was supposed to head back tonight, but they delayed the flight because of the thunderstorms running down the east coast. Izzy and I are meeting Alec at the arena after he flies in tomorrow morning, then we’re headed out to Long Island.”

“You’re going to confront your parents about Valentine?” Magnus sat down, hard, a wave of sick unsteadiness rolling through him.

“It was Alec’s idea, not mine. He’s uptight from not having to do much in the game and ready to end this.”

Magnus closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers on his temple against the sudden pain building beneath his eyeballs. The mixture of bourbon and nail salon fumes seemed like the worst of ideas now. Combined with the gut punch of the news that Alec was pushing for a confrontation with his parents, Magnus’ head was spinning.

For two months, he’d been swept up in the tidal surge of Alexander Lightwood. He’d allowed himself to be pulled farther and farther from the steadiness of land, not concerned enough with the depths of danger existing below him. He’d thought Alec was with him, encouraging him— _them_ —forward just as much as Magnus was. He’d thought Alec wouldn’t let go, until he did.

But maybe he hadn’t at all.

Magnus forced his voice past his lips. “How did you get him to agree to you and Isabelle going with him?”

“We told him he didn’t have a choice,” Max answered simply. “We’re still not ready for him to know what Simon and I are working on with Sebastian, but we didn’t even have to force him not to ask any more questions—he just agreed. He doesn’t care about what happens to him right now, just you.”

Magnus slumped forward and covered his mouth with shaking hands.

_…just you_.

Alec’s actions couldn’t mean what Max thought they meant. And even if Alec _was_ trying to protect him, Alec had made that choice without him. A decision that impacted both of them without regard to Magnus’ wishes. Magnus didn’t know if that was forgivable.

Max was oblivious to Magnus’ turmoil. “Izzy and I— He thinks we’re just going with him to support him, but Izzy and I are cutting ties with our parents too.”

A wave of guilt rolled through him, his pulse pounded in his temple. “Because of me.”

“Because they’re assholes,” Max replied. “And yes, Magnus—because of _you_. Don’t tell him, okay? If he knows what we’re doing, he’s going to try to stop us from going.”

There was absolutely no danger of that, but Max didn’t know that yet. “I won’t. But I don’t want you to—”

“Oh my god, just don’t, Magnus. This has been a long time coming. Izzy and I are doing what we should have done when they kicked Alec out.”

“Take care of yourself, Max. And….” Magnus fought back the rolling of his stomach. “Take care of him too, okay?”

“We will. And when he’s back in town you can take over for a bit. I’ll see you tomorrow at your place.”

_Tomorrow_.

Tomorrow was the night before the Angels’ first home game of the series. A night that—had they been together—Alec would be spending at his loft. Magnus had steadfastly refused to think about that possibility, as if it wouldn’t come at all if he denied it.

But the hours were swiftly closing in and soon Magnus would need to make a decision. Alec wouldn't expect to have access to Magnus’ loft and, had their relationship ever been normal in any way, Magnus wouldn't have allowed it.

Nothing in their relationship had been normal, though.

With Max’s words crashing through the headache steadily growing in intensity, Magnus couldn’t think about what he would do now.

All he could do was answer Max with a truth that was valid no matter the date. “I’ll see you around, Max.”

 

****

 

Alec’s cell in his pocket was an anchor—both dragging him down and keeping him from being swept away—as he made the drive out to Huntington for the second time in less than a week. The text from Magnus that had greeted him as soon as he’d landed in New York was seared into his brain.

_It’s my understanding that Max doesn’t know yet. I’ll respect how and when you decide to talk to him. His apartment is fully furnished, but it’s up to you where you decide to spend the night. I won’t be home._

Tomorrow was the Angels’ first game at home since they’d broken up, and he’d known he’d have to tell Max about his decision tonight because—regardless of whether or not he decided to go—Max would pick up on the fact that something had changed.

Until he’d gotten that text from Magnus, he’d prepared to spend the night at his apartment despite the one hundred percent success rate of this superstition. He’d been sure he wouldn’t hear anything from Magnus unless it was directly related to his negotiations, but now he had a decision to make.

Alec was still trying to make heads or tails of how to respond.

“What did Magnus say about this?” Izzy asked from the passenger seat, as if she could hear where and who his thoughts drifted toward.

Alec’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

She wasn’t talking about his accommodations, though. She was talking about their parents. In the end, Izzy and Max hadn’t given him a choice about going with him to Long Island. Either they went with him or they wouldn’t hand over the information they had.

“He seemed fine with it when I talked to him,” Max answered instead.

_Shit_. That was why Magnus had texted him—Max had called Magnus and told him they were confronting their parents. He didn’t know what Magnus thought about him right now, or whether he was starting to piece together why Alec had ended things between them. He wondered if Magnus figuring that out would make their situation better or worse, but he had a sickening feeling from the detached tone of the text that it would be for the worse.

That wasn’t Max’s fault, though.

Alec peered at Max in the rearview mirror. Max had taken the backseat to rest his leg—he’d been experiencing phantom limb pain since the storms that had passed through the city the night before. “When did you talk to Magnus?”

“Last night after the game. He didn't even mention us coming out here when I texted him this morning. Just griped about how he’d gotten caught in one of the storms, ended up with a headache, and it had taken him hours to fall asleep. Guess I’m not the only one who came out worse for wear from those storms.”

Alec’s gut clenched. It was such an innocent fact to know, completely mundane. But it was something Alec would've been hearing about before his brother only a few days ago. Something he didn’t have a right to know now.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine as soon as he gets you back in his bed,” Max continued on, unaware how deeply his words cut into Alec. “We headed to his place after this?”

There was no way Alec was going straight there—if at all—but he couldn’t say that out loud. So he glanced at Izzy as if he was seeking her opinion.

Izzy shrugged. “Max is going to be with you, Sebastian told Magnus he wasn’t going to try to out you, and we’re taking care of our parents tonight, so I don’t see any reason why you can’t.”

Alec bit at his lip. He hadn’t told them about his and Jace’s verbal deal with Sebastian to buy them more time, and he hadn’t told them about Magnus. He couldn’t keep either of those from Max and Izzy any longer, but how could he drop both confessions on them now?

“Actually, Max, I’m going to head home, do some laundry, and go on a run after this.”

“Solid plan. Magnus definitely won’t go running with you,” Max said with a laugh.

Alec pushed back the sudden ache in his chest at a remembered conversation in LA that had started with Alec teasing Magnus about physical exertion. Of Magnus’ rules, and exceptions to those rules, and an easy banter between them that had ended up with them on the dance floor pressed close together. How had he possibly thought his life was complicated then?

Alec forced a smile. “No, he won’t.”

Izzy had spent most of the ride in her own world, but now she was studying him closely, eyebrows stitched together with worry. She’d always been able to see right through him, although she only challenged him when she believed there was something he wasn’t considering in his unending calculations. So most of the time she just let him think and made herself available to talk when he needed it. He recognized the look on her face now. She was dissecting his features, seeking the hidden truth in what he didn’t say.

He opened his mouth to tell her the truth when she set her hand on his shoulder. “After tonight, there’s nothing our parents can do to hurt us or Magnus. It’s going to be okay, Alec.”

She thought he was worried about their parents. She couldn’t see the truth in him, because letting go of Magnus wasn’t something she could even fathom him doing. He would tell them both after they dealt with their parents. And after he decided how he was going to respond to Magnus.

For now, he needed to consider the risks that Izzy and Max were taking by being here. “It’s not going to be any different for me since they’ve already disowned me, Iz. But what they can do to you….”

Max scoffed. “We don’t care what they do to us, Alec.”

Max should. He had little idea of how damaging it could be to lose contact with their parents—regardless of how awful they were. Alec’d had years now to get used to it, Izzy too, in her own way. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough time for any of them to be okay, though.

Alec pulled into the driveway and got out of the car as soon as it was parked, waiting at his door for Max and Izzy. Alec looked behind him at his siblings—Max’s arm around Izzy’s shoulders, a more pronounced limp in his step—and couldn’t help but feel hurt that he was leading them into dangerous territory. At the same time, he was filled with gratitude. Anytime he needed them, they had his back. They always had each other.

Even if Magnus wouldn’t think of taking him back, Alec hoped there would be something to salvage of Magnus’ relationship with Max and Izzy. He couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing Magnus with a serious boyfriend or girlfriend visiting with his siblings years from now, but he wasn’t so petty that he’d make Izzy and Max erase him from their lives just because he was hurting. They’d grown to love him almost as much as Alec did, and he’d never deny that friendship from any of their lives.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Izzy asked.

Alec squared his shoulders and nodded.

When they got to the door Max used his key in lieu of knocking and let them inside. Their father was walking between the living room and the kitchen when the door opened and he halted at their sudden appearance.

“Max? You said you were coming home….” His gaze flickered to Alec and Izzy. “What is this?”

Max’s features went hard. “Where’s mom?”

“In her office.”

Max didn’t say anything else. Despite that he was in pain there was no hesitation in his steps as he strode through the meticulous entryway toward Maryse’s office with Alec, Izzy, and Robert following.

Maryse’s head shot up at the sudden intrusion, but her face remained inscrutable as she surveyed them all.

Max tromped to her desk and slapped a USB drive with all the information he, Simon, and Izzy had gathered onto the pristine surface. “Follow the bunny down the rabbit hole.”

“Or in this case, the money hole,” Izzy said callously. “Here’s all the proof you need of just how morally bankrupt Valentine Morgenstern is.”

Maryse tipped her chin up. “Where did you get this supposed information?”

“An anonymous source at Morgenstern & Morgenstern,” Izzy said. Alec didn’t know whether that was the full truth or not, but he wasn’t pressing Izzy for more—he trusted her when she said it was better he didn’t know. “The police already know everything we do, so expect them to show up at your front door asking questions in the next few days. In the meantime, I’ll be preparing to defend Alec to the press when it comes out that his own parents benefitted from Valentine’s theft while their son was one of his victims.”

Robert rocked back on his heels as if Izzy had struck him. “He’s not a victim. Valentine assured us Alec’s money is safe.”

“Valentine’s methods aren’t traditional,” Maryse insisted, “but he would never—”

“Valentine lied to you,” Alec growled. He was so done listening to their defense of a man who was nothing but a con artist. “My money and every penny he stole is gone. He’s been ripping off clients for years to fund real estate schemes for himself, his son, you, and the rest of his circle of friends. He’s been buying your influence on the backs of people who actually worked for their money. You had to know the returns he was giving you weren’t possible, and yet you blindly followed him. You continued to defend him, to be complicit in his theft, while you alienated your own children for supposed offenses that have never harmed anyone. Because of you, I ended—” He couldn’t finish that sentence. He didn’t want them to know that they’d had even a hint of power over him. That power didn’t exist anymore. “When you couldn’t get to me with money you came at my _heart_. I’m done.”

Robert’s skin paled. Maryse appeared just as defiant as she had before Alec’s tirade. Her tendency to deflect every emotion that wasn’t anger cut at Alec in a new way. It was painfully familiar—too like _himself_.

The deafening silence that followed lasted mere seconds, until Izzy crossed her arms, her voice coming sure and strong.

“Simon and I are done too.”

Alec’s heart beat erratically as he took in Izzy’s steely-eyed gaze on their parents. What was she doing?

“And not just them. You’ve lost all of us,” Max said. He placed his keys to the house and a slip of paper on the desk. “That is a cashier’s check for all the money that was in my checking account—including the money I’ve earned. I’ve applied for loans for next year. If I could return every tainted dollar you’ve spent on me, I would. ”

Robert’s eyes filled with tears. “Max. Please don’t do this.”

Izzy flinched and Alec felt her wave of rejection as his own. They’d both known Max was the favored child, but it hurt to hear that confirmed out loud.

Max laughed then, an ugly sound of derision. “Oh my god, you are such assholes. Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

Alec’s head swam as he realized why Max and Izzy had been so adamant that they didn’t care what their parents did to them for being here with Alec—they’d come into this with plans to cut their ties to Maryse and Robert too.

Alec stared at his siblings, overwhelmed. “You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s our choice, Alec,” Izzy said. “After what they did to you I was done. Then Magnus…?”

Max rounded on their dad then. “What were you thinking going after Magnus like that?”

Izzy shook her head. “He’s a better person than either of you will ever be.”

Maryse shot to her feet. “Magnus Bane—”

“Enough!” Alec boomed. Magnus’ name on his mother’s lips sent Alec off immediately. “You heard them, so let’s make this really fucking clear. All your involvement in our lives ends now—and that includes the people we love. You will not interfere with Magnus’ life. You will not dig up anything else on him. You will not even _think_ his name.”

Max sneered. “You may not have known what Valentine was doing, but we know exactly where—and who—you got the information on Magnus from.”

“All of that information is reliable. It’s all true,” Robert insisted, his voice broken.

Alec laughed darkly and faced his father. “I don’t fucking care that it is. I love him for who he is now, so this ends here. You know as well as I do that the mere suggestion that you had a hand in Valentine’s theft will ruin both of your precious careers. If you continue to go after him, I will make sure it is more than a suggestion in the press.”

Maryse tipped her chin up. “I think it’s time you left. All of you.”

Her reaction was exactly what he’d expected, but he could see the hurt in Max’s thinned lips, in the grim set of his jaw, and the shininess of his eyes. Softening that pain was all that mattered to Alec now.

He set his hand on Max’s back. “Come on, Max. Let’s go home.”

Izzy held out her hand and Alec grasped hold of her, needing her strength. He slung his arm over Max’s shoulder, holding his brother up so they all could leave with just as much honor as they’d entered.

 

****

 

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” Ragnor inquired as he helped Chairman into his carrier and bolted the door shut. Chairman mewled a defeated protest and Ragnor frowned, facing Magnus. “I’m beginning to think you’ve gone a bit mad.”

Catarina hadn’t questioned Magnus’ motivations, but leave it to Ragnor to be just as insufferable as usual.

And right.

Magnus’ head was still in a fog from the lack of sleep last night, but no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that the conversation with Max had been an exhaustion-induced hallucination, Magnus couldn’t deny the very real text he’d received from Alec an hour ago.

Alec had gone through with confronting his parents and while Magnus may never know the details of what had transpired there, that Alec had pursued this particular agenda above all others left Magnus lurching with indecisiveness more than sleep deprivation ever could. Alec hadn't pushed Max and Izzy on what they were doing to free him of Sebastian, he’d gone after the two people who had threatened Magnus.

Magnus swiped at his eyes. Tears came much too easily to him lately, and in front of people he wished they hadn’t. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Bugger,” Ragnor swore.

He set down Chairman Meow’s cat carrier and grasped Magnus’ biceps with both his hands.

Magnus’ lips trembled and he hated that. “I don’t want your pity.”

He sounded pitiful.

“You don’t have my pity, you have my support. I rarely know what I’m doing or why but that is of little regard to the earth maintaining its tumble through space. Let’s get you out of here. You don’t need to know whether or not he takes you up on your offer.”

Magnus nodded and thought about his last text to Alec. It had been his first communication with Alec since the break up that wasn’t business. Alec had once told Magnus that he felt safe in Magnus’ loft and, superstition or not—together or not—he couldn't deny Alec that after hearing what Max had to say.

It wasn’t an invitation—merely permission. Alec still had the keys to Magnus’ loft. If he chose to use them, he could.

Magnus had waited hours for a response, not knowing whether he wanted one or not. But when it had come as he was zipping up his suitcase, the response had been nothing what he’d expected.

_You don’t have to worry about my parents anymore_

Magnus couldn’t stop repeating the text in his head—or the cowardly fact that he hadn’t answered—as he passed by the note he’d left on the counter, then followed Ragnor out of his loft.

 

****

 

Alec stood in front of Magnus’ door, staring at his set of keys. The apartment really was empty. He’d already knocked minutes ago and had been met with silence. Since then he’d been unable to move.

What the hell was he doing here?

He’d managed to eliminate his parents as a threat—he was sure his parents wouldn’t try anything else because they valued their own skin too much—but there was still so much that was unresolved. Sebastian, that Alec wasn’t out, that Magnus was still his agent…. That he was desperately in love with a man he’d cut out of his life. The elevator dinged and Alec’s heart stuttered in his chest. He couldn’t help but hope that maybe Magnus had changed his mind and was coming back.

He needed to talk to Magnus, to see him again and find out if Magnus only looked at him with the same detachment that had been painted on his face last Friday—or if there was still something _more_ there—but it was Max who stepped out of the elevator.

Alec slumped against the doorjamb and watched his brother approach. He was eyeing Alec warily. “Danny gave me a note from Magnus when I headed out to get dinner. Magnus made some lame excuse about why he couldn’t be here, and that you already knew—he didn’t even text me. What is going on with you two?”

Alec wasn’t ready to get into it. Not while he was standing outside Magnus’ door deciding whether he was going to go inside or not. “Nothing.”

Max made the decision for him. He grabbed Alec’s keys and unbolted the door, mumbling to himself. “Right. Nothing.”

Alec couldn’t move his feet to go inside even when the door was wide open.

The loft looked exactly the same. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Empty bottles of whiskey? Half-eaten containers of take out food scattered everywhere? Something, anything, to prove that Magnus was even partially as wrecked as Alec was.

Max eyed Alec over his shoulder. “Are you coming in?”

“I don’t know.”

Max dumped the to-go bag onto the table and faced Alec. “Talk. Now.”

Alec scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Not yet.”

Max huffed and began unpacking the bag on the table. He went for the silverware drawer, but paused with his fingers just above the handle as he stared at the counter. He lifted a piece of paper off the surface and froze. His brow stitched together as he read it over, his frown deepening.

Max held the paper out for him. “I think this is for you.”

Alec took a hesitant step inside and accepted the note.

 

_Stop standing in the entryway and come in._

 

Alec’s throat closed up and he had to blink to keep Magnus’ elegant handwriting in focus.

Max’s face fell. “Alec—”

Alec held up his hand to quiet Max. First the text and now this. Magnus was making a point to let Alec know he was allowed to be here. It was too much to hope that maybe Magnus allowing him to be here meant he knew Alec had been trying to protect him. He wanted to run, needed to escape, but his superstition was here, and this place was safe, and…. Screw _all_ those reasons, he was so tired of being without Magnus. _Fuck_. It had only been days since he’d stood in Magnus’ office but it felt like that one action had ripped a tear into his life that would stretch so far into the future he had no chance of repairing it. No chance of not feeling that wound somehow for the rest of his life.

“Alec,” Max said quietly. “Whatever is going on, he left you that note. _And_ he gave you these keys so you would use them.”

“I know.”

“So come in. We can talk after we eat.”

Alec took in a great, shuddering breath. He dropped his bag to the floor and shut the door behind him.

“I can’t eat right now. But maybe I could learn something from one of your stupid rom coms. Throw in _The Notebook_ or”—he waved his hand in a vague direction—“whatever.”

Max stared at him, dumbfounded. “ _The Notebook_?”

“Or whatever.”

Max studied him for a moment more with narrowed his eyes. “I’ve got something in mind. It has Anne Hathaway.”

“I like her. Turn it on.”

Alec dropped onto the couch, his chest tightening as the scent of Magnus’ cologne enveloped him. Alec grabbed the pillow next to him—the one Magnus always used—and clutched it to his chest, breathing in. It was the best he'd felt in days.

_Fuck_ , he was pathetic.

 

****

 

“I’m pathetic,” Magnus intoned, ripping his gaze away from the light that had just gone on inside his apartment.

Ragnor turned over the engine of his ancient car and pulled away from the curb. “You’re in love.”

Magnus sagged into the seat as they headed for Catarina’s apartment. “You were right—I didn’t need to know whether or not he decided to stay at my place.”

“I always am.”

Even Ragnor’s prickliness couldn’t get a rise out of him. He was too consumed with his own internal chaos.

He’d watched Alec walk into his building, using that silver set of keys Magnus had given him to gain entry through the security door. Seen glimpses of him chatting with Danny. Then Max entering not far behind Alec, what had to be dinner cradled in his arms. Then the light going on in his living room, not the apartment next to his. What was Alec thinking? Had he hoped that maybe Magnus would still be there?

The only way to know would be to call Alec—to hear for himself—but he couldn’t do that. Because finding out the opposite—that besting his parents was about gaining his own freedom, and staying at Magnus’ was merely because of superstition…. Magnus couldn’t bear to hear that.

He sighed and stared unseeing out the window. It was better not to know at all.

 

****

 

“What the fuck?” Alec yelled at the credits rolling on the screen _and_ at Max. He felt like his chest had been ripped open and every organ clawed to mangles and left lying on the floor. “That’s it? She finally ends up with the guy she loves and she _dies_?”

Max shrugged, nonplussed. “It’s based on a book.”

“That book should be burned,” Alec said vehemently. “I learned nothing from that.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

Max tipped his head. “‘Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ve had today’? That is wise.”

“I said romantic comedy. That _sucked_ , Max.”

He stormed to his feet and snatched the remote out of Max’s hands.

He wasn’t crying. There were definitely no tears. He must have gotten one of the Chairman’s hairs in his eyes—

Alec stilled at that thought, gaze running over the loft. “Where’s Chairman? Have you seen him?”

Max furrowed his brow and glanced around. “Actually, I haven’t.”

Dread coiled in his gut as Alec checked the usual hiding spots in the living room, bathroom, and Magnus’ office. But Alec knew even without going into the bedroom—Magnus had taken his cat with him.

“Alec?”

Alec’s stomach began to churn at the tone of Max’s voice coming from the bedroom. He found Max standing next to the bed, peering into a box sitting in the center.

Alec stepped up to him and rifled through the contents. It contained every gift Alec had given Magnus—the earbuds, that first book, his sweatshirt…. Alec’s heart skittered and his eyes burned when he realized what he was looking at.

Magnus had allowed Alec to come here so he could retrieve his things. Magnus had vacated everything that mattered to him and what was left was a shell. This wasn’t a home without Magnus and the Chairman here.

Alec pushed aside the glossy paperback he’d picked up for Magnus in Dallas and realized there was one thing missing—the first edition Tarasov book.

What the hell did _that_ mean?

Alec laced his fingers behind his neck and closed his eyes. “I can’t do this. What the fuck am I doing?”

“I don’t know, Alec. What the fuck are you doing?”

Alec looked to his brother. “I broke up with him. Last week.”

Max’s eyes widened. “Jesus fuck. _Why_?”

First Jace, now Max. Alec’s anger went into overdrive without thought. “Because of our parents! I couldn’t have anything happen to him—I couldn’t risk it. And he wouldn’t give up on us. I _had_ to.”

“Alec! I told you I was working on something. I told you to trust me. It was—what?—four days? What. The. Actual. Fuck?”

Max was yelling but he wasn't furious—Alec could recall with stark clarity how finely etched Max’s features had appeared when he'd sat next to Alec on the High Line after Sebastian had first come after him. This wasn't that Max. This was the Max who'd railed at him the first time he'd taken on a PR girlfriend—as if Alec choosing to protect himself was a personal betrayal.

“You weren’t in that room,” Alec growled. “You didn’t hear what they said to me or how they said it. You haven’t spent the last nine years of your life knowing that the people who brought you into this world think they created a defective product. You don’t get to judge me for something you can’t fully understand.”

Max’s shoulders slumped. “Jesus, Alec. You are not defective.”

“Yeah, well, they think I am. And they thought the same thing about Magnus. They thought it was okay to judge him—to _threaten_ him—because he doesn’t meet their impossible standards. I couldn’t—”

“That’s the thing, Alec,” Max interrupted through clenched teeth. “You could have. You could have trusted me and Izzy. You could have trusted Magnus to understand that too. I don't fucking get you some days. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to protect us all as if you are.”

“I know I’m not alone,” Alec gritted out, “but I do have to take care of you.”

“You don’t have to strip away our own agency in order to do that, though! You didn’t even tell Magnus what you were doing, did you?”

Alec flinched.

“Oh my god. You didn’t even make him part of that decision and yet you're still here?”

Alec gritted his teeth. “He told me it was my choice whether I wanted to be here or not—that he would be gone either way.”

Max gaped. “Please tell me you're not fucking serious.”

“You saw that note. He said I could be here.”

Max inhaled sharply through his nose. “Tell me you're not using him because of your fucking superstitions.”

Alec was floored. “Do you really think I would do that?”

Max waved a hand between the two of them, then around the room. “All evidence seems to back that theory up!”

“Of course I'm not! Fuck, Max. I was hoping that maybe he’d changed his mind and we’d be able to talk. I wasn’t sure I was going to come in here at all. Then you showed up and just unlocked the door and walked inside, like I would’ve done if I hadn’t—”

Alec’s eyes burned. His shoulders sagged.

He looked to his brother. He couldn’t default into a defensive, angry tirade like their mother anymore. He needed Max to see the pain he carried underneath his too thin skin. “I hurt him, Max. I said things to him…. Things that I can never fully take back because he will always wonder if I really felt that way. I fucked up. But I needed him to be safe. I was so mad at myself for allowing him to get hurt, and so fucking scared for him. And now?” He started to dig his thumb into his left hand, then sought out the security of his bracelet, wincing when he realized it wasn’t there anymore. “I placed myself in front of him to protect him and I can't bail until I know he's not a target anymore. I can’t even think of trying to regain his trust until I've made all this fucking pain…worth something. He has to be safe. Not just from our parents, from Sebastian too. And I can't do that without knowing what it is you and Iz are working on.”

Max’s jaw tightened. “No fucking way. You do not get to emotionally blackmail me because I care about Magnus and you fucked up.”

Alec cringed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It's _exactly_ what you meant, you're just too emotionally stunted to understand that sometimes what you say is really fucking dickish.” Alec opened his mouth to respond and Max silenced him with a glare. “I’m going to repeat this one last time. Knowing what we are doing is too risky. You have to trust me—fucking trust me _this_ time—when I tell you that I’m working on it.”

“Fine. Okay.”

Max glared at him. “Not that there wasn’t enough pressure before, Izzy, Simon, and I are now responsible for trying to save your relationship too?”

“Now who's being dickish?” Alec bit back.

Max fumed. “What did you say to him? I know how he feels about you. Whatever you said had to be cruel for him to give up on you like this.”

Alec bit at his lip. His stomach rolled. “I told him that he and I getting together was a mistake….”

Max swore under his breath.

“…Then I gave him back the bracelet and told him I only wanted him as my agent.”

“Alec. I swear to fucking god—”

Alec held up his hand. “That’s not all.” This part he hadn’t told to Jace. Only Max would understand why it had affected Magnus the way it had because of the night Magnus had tried to give Alec an out. “And when he said that of course I had to consider my career first, I didn’t disagree with him. I let him believe that was the truth.”

_There_. There was the fury. Alec had never seen that level of anger directed at him from his brother.

Alec’s heart rent apart in a new, excruciating way that he hadn’t even thought was possible. “Max—”

“I can’t look at you right now.”

Max thumped out of the room and slammed the bedroom door shut, the reverberations echoing through the room until Alec was left with deathly silence.

He collapsed onto the side of the bed, laid back, covered his eyes….

And broke.

No, he’d already broken in the first game of this series. This was like being run over by a zamboni blade and chopped into bits. Flattened and dispersed. Just as painful and just as violent. The last time he’d laid in this bed it had been with Magnus. Eleven days ago and everything had changed. _He’d_ forced it to change.

Magnus knew that Alec had gone after his parents, and he was still done. There wouldn’t be a time for them to talk, or for Alec to beg Magnus to understand. For him to say he was sorry.

_Fuck_.

Maybe he didn’t want that chance. Maybe Magnus was better off without him.

Alec dug his hands into his eyes, flashes and ribbons of light filling his vision. He heard Jace’s voice in his head and tried to match his breathing to his best friend’s instructions. He sensed the weight of the box next to his head, and it was heavier than he ever thought it could possibly be. All of those material objects carried much more significance than he’d ever imagined.

He hadn’t fully understood what giving that bracelet back must have felt like for Magnus. He did now.

The bed dipped next to him and Max’s fingers pushed back his hair from his forehead.

“I can’t stay here, Max.” His throat ached, his lungs burned. “But when I walk out that door with this box, it’s all over.”

“Magnus said you could be here….” Max sighed. “So do you want to watch _Maid in Manhattan_?”

He didn’t deserve Max. “Does anyone die in that one?”

“Nope. And I cracked open beers for both of us.”

Alec swiped the last of his tears from his eyes and sat up. “Let’s do it.”

One last night in a place that he’d once hoped would be permanent. One last night to accept that Magnus was moving on without him.

Alec picked up the box and followed Max into the living room.

 

****

 

Magnus sat in the bay window of Catarina’s apartment, his knees curled to his chest and Chairman draped over his feet, both he and his cat staring out at the street. “Thank you for letting me crash here, Cat. It really is the only place besides home that the Chairman is comfortable.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Cat replied.

Magnus winced. He wasn’t sure if that was a sentiment she’d picked up from him, or he’d picked up from her, but he couldn’t help but think of how many times he’d said that exact same thing to Alec. And that Alec was using that to his full advantage right now.

Ragnor exited the kitchen with a flourish, brandishing a pitcher of green margaritas and three glasses. “Time to get drunk.”

Magnus waved away the offer. “Nothing for me.”

Ragnor raised an eyebrow.

“He broke me,” Magnus said by way of explanation.

Ragnor sighed, dropped onto the couch next to Cat and began to fill all three glasses. “No, Magnus—Camille broke you. Alec brought you back to life.”

Cat nodded. “You thought you could never love again.”

Magnus thumped his head against the wall. “And look where that left me.”

“Stop being a diva, Magnus.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” Ragnor stood and offered Magnus a salt-rimmed glass. “One drink won’t leave you doing a naked jig in the window for all of Cat’s neighbors to see.”

Magnus swiped the glass out of Ragnor’s hand. His memory for Magnus’ drunken shenanigans was far too detailed.

“I don’t think you’re seeing this for what it is,” Catarina said. “Alec is still fighting for you, still communicating with you, and still seeking out places tied to you…. Alec didn’t abandon you like Camille did—he’s sheltering you.”

Magnus scoffed. He was trying to hold onto his bitterness. It made much more sense than anything else that was happening. “He’s using me. He asked me to still be his agent even though he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

Ragnor raised an eyebrow. “You forget that you offered that exact scenario to him a week before.”

Magnus scowled.

Cat took a sip from her glass, thinking. “I don’t know Alec like you do, but even I can tell that he kept you on as his agent because he couldn’t cut you completely out of his life. It was an excuse to keep you close.”

Magnus didn’t know if he could believe that. “You didn’t hear what he said to me, or how he looked at me. And even if that’s all true…. He didn’t trust me enough for us to work through this together.”

Magnus took a deep drink from his glass. “No. I trusted _him_ too much. I worked to gain his trust, but I never even considered he wasn’t trying to do the same with me….”

As soon as Magnus said those words out loud he realized how true they were. How had he not seen this sooner?

Magnus sat up, sending Chairman scrambling for Catarina’s lap. “I gave my trust to him without reason, without him having to earn it at all. Gradually coming out, pushing for a new contract—that was for him, not me. I put my job at risk, and stepped back into the closet—for _him_. I’m turning down drinks, abandoning my own home…. My god, I don’t even recognize myself.”

Cat glanced at Ragnor.

He frowned, but nodded his agreement to her silent question. “It’s time to bring out the big guns.”

“We know just the thing to make you smile.” Catarina set her glass down on the table and sat down next to him. “When was the last time you threw a party?”

 

****

 

Alec glanced at the iPad in his hands, flipping to another video before he headed into goalie practice. He was two hours early, but he hadn’t been able to get out of Magnus’ place fast enough.

His neck and back ached from sleeping sitting up on the couch with Max’s leg across his lap. Both of them had fallen asleep during the movie then woken up when Alec had accidentally kicked over Max’s prosthetic—which had been propped up on the coffee table. Two minutes later Izzy had started calling and texting as Max shrugged and didn’t even bother to apologize for telling her about Magnus. There’d been no way he’d be able to sleep anymore. Then Max…. Max hadn’t allowed him to shove that set of keys under Magnus’ door after he’d locked it—ensuring he may never sleep ever again. He’d carried those keys for ten days, and yet he swore they felt heavier as he’d walked to the arena today.

He’d eliminated his parents as a threat and Max assured him that there was nothing else Alec could do right now, because taking Sebastian down wasn’t far behind. He hoped that was true since he didn’t know how long it would be before Sebastian contacted Magnus about the deal they’d made.

The only thought keeping him moving was that tonight he had the chance to beat the league record for the number of shutouts in any post-season. Almost a century of official stats, and Alec had the chance to go to the top of that list. It was something else that couldn’t be taken away from him, and tonight he would earn it.

He wondered if there was any way Magnus would be at the game to see that.

Voices drifted back to him and Alec dragged his eyes away from the tape of the Lightning forwards. Alaric was standing at the end of the hallway talking to a man who looked vaguely familiar. The man’s head was tipped down as Alaric spoke to him and Alec slowed his steps, trying to figure out who the guy was and why his stomach was tying into knots in reaction to him. The man looked up at Alaric and Alec’s stomach completely bottomed out when he realized who it was—Victor Aldertree, the Penguins’ starting goalie, and he was talking to the one person in the building who was in charge of scooping up pros from other league teams.

Victor shook Alaric’s hand and disappeared down a side corridor, while Alaric swung on his heel and started toward Alec. It only took him a few steps before he looked up and caught eyes with Alec.

The numb spot on Alec’s hand ached. His wrist felt so fucking bare. He gripped the iPad tighter. “Was that the Pens’ goaltender I just saw?”

“You know I can’t talk about it, Lightwood.”

Alec glared at Alaric, then brushed past him.

The only reason for Victor Aldertree to be meeting with Alaric was if the Angels’ were scouting him in some way. The Penguins’ season was over—the Angels had ensured that—and Victor didn’t have a contract to continue with Pittsburgh since he’d been called up just before the playoffs. Victor was from New York and a lifelong fan of the Angels, likely seeking a chance to live at home and play for the home team. Those were the same reasons Jace and he had been clamoring to accept the contracts with the Angels. That the home team was one of the best in the league was the fucking cherry. It didn’t get any better for a professional athlete.

Alec flexed his left hand, trying to shake the itching sensation out of it. But his jaw was tightening up, then his shoulders, a wave of tension rolling through him. If he remained this tense he’d be struggling through the entire game.

Instead of heading for his gear and taking to the ice early, he backtracked to a different hallway and knocked on the trainer’s door.

“Enter,” Kadir’s voice boomed from the other side.

Alec set his iPad aside. “I slept wrong last night, think you’d have time to help work out some of the kinks in my back?”

“No problem, Lightwood. Get set up on the table and I’ll be right in.”

Alec stripped down to his boxers and laid out on Kadir’s massage table. He’d heard that an athletic massage wasn’t anything like the ones Izzy paid so much for at the spa, but he had no idea because he hadn’t—and never would—go to anyone else. Kadir had a master’s in kinesiology and he knew about the complications that came from playing hockey—as well as Alec’s personal medical history and injuries.

“I never see you in here for something like this. Didn’t sleep in your own bed, Lightwood?” Kadir joked as he entered the room.

Alec clenched his teeth. “Nope.”

Kadir chuckled and got to work. “Next time make sure your lady gives you a bit more space to stretch out.”

Alec pressed his forehead into the table and inhaled through his teeth. Fuck Victor Aldertree, fuck the front office, and fuck the consequences—he refused to live like this anymore. “I’m gay.”

Kadir’s hands lifted from Alec’s back and Alec tensed, then Kadir’s rumbling laughter filled the room. “Cool. Me too. Just make sure you stick with a bed that has solid support the next time.”

_Holy shit_. Out of all the conversations he’d had in the last few weeks, this was the first time he’d had someone else come out to him. And Kadir had made that admission with absolutely no hesitation. For once, Alec didn’t have to be prepared to defend himself, or wonder if this changed how Kadir thought of him. Kadir went back to massaging Alec’s shoulders without another word, and Alec eased back onto the table.

“I, uh…. I slept on a couch actually.”

“Oh, one of _those_ nights.”

Alec shook his head. “You have no idea.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll loosen you up as much as I can.”

Kadir worked down Alec’s back then moved on to his legs, attempting to unknot every muscle in Alec’s body from his head to his feet as Alec tried to clear his mind. No matter how good Kadir was at his job, though, Alec couldn’t drive the image of Victor out of his head.

“That better?” Kadir asked as he stepped away.

Alec pushed himself up from the table and rolled his shoulders. He feigned a lightness he didn’t feel. “Thanks. Now I have to dress, practice, and fuck up all my muscles again.”

Kadir swiped his hands on a towel and tossed it into the laundry. “See me before the game if you need anything else. And make sure to hydrate.”

Alec managed half a smile and nodded.

Instead of getting dressed immediately, he took a minute to breathe, to think, to will himself not to re-tie his body into the same knots of uncertainty that were coalescing in his head.

Just as Alec was pulling his shirt over his head, he heard voices rising in Kadir’s office. Not shouting, but definitely not amicable.

He pushed through the door and Kadir hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “Apparently, they want to talk to you.”

Alec narrowed his eyes at the man and woman. “I don’t even know them.”

“Luke Garroway allowed us entrance.” The man gripped the lapels of his olive jacket and tugged defiantly with an air of authority. “I’m Ragnor and this is Catarina.”

_Shit_.

He tipped his chin up to Kadir. “It’s okay. I got this. You mind if we use your office for a bit?”

Kadir nodded, shutting the door behind him.

Before Alec could get a word out, Ragnor was starting in on him. “Magnus is miserable and I can’t deal with it anymore.”

That shockwave hit Alec full in the chest. He crossed his arms and locked his knees to keep his legs from buckling. “Does he know you’re here?”

Ragnor shook his head. “He’s going to be fucking livid with us.”

“But that’s nothing new,” Catarina said.

Alec surveyed both of them. These were Magnus’ closest friends—two people who’d known him for twenty years. Two people whom he and Magnus had talked about countless times, but always in the context of introductions and dinners. Of happy times yet to come. They weren’t supposed to meet like this. And now he had no right to know them at all.

Alec held his hand up and started to walk away. “I’m sorry…. I don’t think we should be talking.”

Catarina reached out, fingers gently circling his wrist. “Please. Just a moment of your time.”

Alec caught her eye. She was kind. _Too good for this world_ he remembered Magnus saying.

“For Magnus,” she added.

The hollowness in his chest that he’d been carrying since last night expanded as he nodded.

Catarina dropped her hand away. “He refuses to see that you pushed him away to protect him, but we see it. Ignore Ragnor’s…expression—he sees it too. Just like there is a part of Magnus that knows as well. Please. Don’t give up on him, there are too many people already who have.”

“I haven’t,” Alec answered without thought. He didn’t know if he was reassuring her or himself. “But I think he has. Given up on me, that is….”

“If his words were the only thing I listened to then I would agree.” Catarina’s gaze bored into him. “But I think you know as well as I do that Magnus says very little with words.”

The sound of that bracelet clanking into the trash echoed in his ears. Magnus had returned almost all of Alec’s gifts to him, yet kept the one book Alec would never be able to replace. Magnus’ actions were just as conflicting as his words were. If Alec could see Magnus he’d know for sure. But that wasn’t possible.

Catarina frowned. “And I think you know why he would push you away, as well.”

“I don’t know what he told you….” Alec scrubbed his hands over his beard. _Everything_. Magnus would have told them everything. “He doesn’t think he’s worth fighting for. But I know he is. He thinks I deserve better than him, but I—” Alec felt tears coming to his eyes. Drove them back. “Magnus is the best man I know.”

“You two deserve each other,” Ragnor scoffed.

Catarina broke out into sudden laughter. Alec eased, remembering that Magnus had told him how rude Ragnor could be. No, Magnus always used the word _insufferable_ when talking about Ragnor, then spoke in the next breath of Ragnor being a good friend.

Max had told him to wait and trust. He’d ignored him before, he wouldn’t now.

Alec clenched his jaw. “I hate that he’s miserable, but I can’t— Not yet.”

“Just….” Catarina’s voice drifted off as she looked to Ragnor. Ragnor sighed and rolled his eyes. Catarina met Alec’s gaze again. “Don’t take too long.”

Alec wasn’t following. “What do you mean?”

“Magnus is nothing if not impatient _and_ stubborn,” Ragnor stated.

Catarina nodded. “You won’t have to wonder if there’s no chance of reconciling with him. When he’s done he’ll tell you, and that will be it.”

The definitiveness of that statement gave Alec pause. “I don’t want it to be over with him, but as long as he’s safe…. I’ll deal.”

“I’m sorry we had to meet this way, Alec.”

“Just take care of him.” Alec tipped up his chin and leveled Ragnor with a stare. “Don’t be too hard on him.”

Ragnor huffed. “I make no such promises, Lightwood.”

Alec felt a smirk teasing at his lips despite the heaviness he carried. Ragnor was exactly the type of friend Magnus needed at his side right now. “Is he, uh…. Is he going to be here? Tonight?”

Catarina nodded. “He’ll be in IE’s suite. No date. Just him.”

Alec opened the door and Ragnor walked through without comment, but Catarina stopped in the doorway, looking up at him. “And whether or not you believe it, he’ll be cheering for you.”

Alec gripped the door handle tighter. He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.

 

****

 

_Night of Game Three_

_(Conference Finals tally - Angels lead the series two games to none)_

 

The arena was awash in the white of home jerseys and rally towels. An undulating, ecstatic mass of people ready to cheer their home team on to victory. Magnus stood at the railing of the IE suite and looked out over the sold-out crowd. Last night his one margarita had turned to two, then three, but there had been no naked dancing—much to Ragnor’s chagrin. Usually nothing made him happier than a surly Ragnor, yet not even the reluctant promise of his distastefully styled best friend to help him plan a summer party had been enough to cheer him up. Maybe tonight would be better, though. The Chairman had remained at Catarina’s apartment and Magnus would return there after the game. He wasn’t ready to go home. Not after Alec had been there.

Imogen joined him at the railing, overlooking the boisterous crowd with a clinical gaze.

Magnus fiddled with his ear cuff and turned to her. “Anything we need to discuss before the game starts?”

“I met with Lydia Branwell yesterday,” Imogen stated. “She presented me with a draft sixty-day action plan and had already researched the league certification process.”

Magnus smiled sadly—he had no doubt how that meeting had ended. Both women were driven and decisive. He had to let Alec go, but the reality that the moment was coming sooner rather than later hit him anew.

He had to swallow around the thickness in his throat to find his voice. “When does she start?”

“Human resources sent out her offer letter today and she’s already accepted. I invited her to come tonight.”

“Does Alec know?”

Imogen raised an eyebrow. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Magnus shook his head. “I haven’t talked to him.”

Imogen’s gaze bored into him, eyes flitting over his face as she pieced that statement together. Her lips tugged into a frown. “I thought you’d be happy to see that contract come to an end.”

“I am, but not for the reasons that were once at the forefront.”

A hint of Imogen lifting her eyebrow was the only indication of Imogen’s surprise at that news. “Then it’s time to introduce the idea of Lydia to Alec—he may not even agree to it. Regardless of whether or not he does, she’s exactly the type of candidate we need more of at IE.”

“I think he’ll be amenable.”

Imogen pursed her lips. “And where do we stand in regards to the Morgenstern situation?”

“I’m working on something you don’t want to know about. If it goes badly, the repercussions won’t be on IE.”

“You’re sure?”

“Quite.” Max—and possibly Simon—would end up in jail, but they were taking the brunt of the risk. Risk that Magnus wasn’t even fully informed on because Max wanted to ensure he had plausible deniability. “Isabelle’s team at Alicante has an arsenal of PR responses at the ready for every contingency.”

Imogen nodded and settled into a seat in the front row. Magnus unbuttoned his jacket and slid into the seat next to hers. Their business concluded, Magnus was sure they would watch the game together in silence—as they had the last time he’d been in this suite—but then she was speaking again. “You know, I was at a family party last night and had a long discussion with someone that we both know.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow in silent question.

“Will Herondale.”

It was an uncommon last name, but Imogen had never given him a hint that she knew Will. “I wasn’t aware you and Will are related.”

“Because I didn’t want you to know,” she stated frankly. “He’s a fourth cousin, or fifth, something along those lines…. How else do you think Tessa ended up at IE? Tessa may have never landed an agent, but Will assured me she would be a big star so I entrusted her to you. What I didn’t realize at the time, but came to learn last night, was that you were instrumental in keeping Will, Tessa, and Jem together.”

That surprised Magnus even more. “You know about them.”

“I am one of the few in the family who has known since the beginning. Now, everyone does. Will refused to keep up pretenses and brought both of them to the party—it was quite the scandal. Will loved it.”

Magnus chuckled. “I have no doubt he did. I’m interested in hearing why you’ve chosen to share this particular story at this particular time, though.”

Imogen resettled in her chair so she was facing Magnus directly. “You and I have our disagreements, Magnus, and you sometimes are too emotionally invested to see clearly, but you always protect your clients with ferocity—like they are family. I have been unmoved by the concept of family for too long because of the betrayal of my husband and his untimely death. I’ve been jaded by life and perhaps I’ve…superimposed too much of my own history onto my expectations of you. I didn’t start this company for money, and I know you don’t remain an agent because of it. What we—you and I—do at IE is a form of protection that is viscerally motivated. We are in this line of work because we have been taken advantage of and don’t want to see anyone else suffer the same fate.”

There was too much truth in that statement for Magnus to swallow. All he could do was nod.

“And with Alec….” Imogen sighed. “Jem told me how you enlisted Tessa into helping with Alec’s superstitions to ensure he would succeed—mentally, if not practically, since that’s what superstitions are. Then Will shared with me a conversation he’d had with Jace…. I spoke to Jace myself before the game and he confirmed that he hadn’t chosen IE, he had chosen _you_.”

Jace had said those exact words to Magnus himself, but to hear that he’d shared that same sentiment with Imogen meant so much more. He twisted his ring and maintained eye contact with Imogen despite his discomfort. He wasn’t sure where she was going with all of this.

“I could have ripped Alec out from your portfolio weeks ago because of the conflict of interest,” Imogen continued. “In fact, I _should have_ the moment those pictures showed up in my email. But Jem, Will, and Jace validated my decision to allow you to continue as Alec’s agent—you were the only one making sure he was being listened to, and that he wasn’t being taken advantage of. I put my faith in you, then wavered from that faith because of my own issues when I insisted on going to Dallas with you. I owe you an apology for that. So. I’m sorry.”

Magnus shook his head. “You don’t.”

“Regardless, it’s there for you to accept. You continue to be worthy of my trust. In fact, here you are—still ensuring Alec’s success despite that it appears there is no longer a need to make an agent switch at all.”

Magnus had to look away from her. There _was_ a need. This time, however, because Magnus didn’t know how much longer he could continue to communicate with Alec and pretend that his heart wanted so much more.

Magnus swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “If you’re asking if there’s still potential for an agent-client conflict of interest…. I assure you there isn’t.”

Imogen nodded gravely. “Then it’s time to pass Alec’s contract on to someone who will see to his welfare with the same ferocity.”

“It is.”

Imogen sighed as she gazed out at the rink. There was a distance to her view of the ice that spoke to seeing years into the past. “Are you okay, Magnus?”

It wasn’t a question he’d been prepared to hear from Imogen’s lips of all people, but maybe they were more similar than he’d wanted to think. So he answered with the same honesty he always gave her.

“I will be.”

 

****

 

Alec stared at this pre-game text from Magnus and tried not to imagine what Magnus looked like tonight in IE’s suite. They were in the same building again, but since receiving the text he was even more sure that he wouldn’t be seeing Magnus after the game.

_Lydia Branwell met with Imogen today. She’s been hired on as a new agent and she requested that you be added to her portfolio. Imogen asked me to tell you that the final decision will be up to you_

Alec already knew—Lydia had called him after the offer letter came in from Imogen. It was the only thing in his day so far that had been a relief. Lydia was smart, strong, and competent. She would make a great agent and he trusted her. That the transfer also removed the professional barrier between he and Magnus was the one positive note he was holding onto today.

One he didn’t know if he should be hanging onto at all.

From the beginning, Magnus had sought him out to speak in person in lieu of text or calls—for conversations far less important than this one. He couldn’t help but think about what Catarina had told him.

His hands shook as he typed out a reply, _You’re done?_

The bubbles popped up almost immediately. _I will see you through your negotiation and you can discuss with Imogen who your new agent will be at that time_

Alec sagged forward, nearly dropping his phone with relief. Magnus wasn’t done with him—not yet. Alec still had time.

His cell pinged again, _Lydia is coming down to the locker room after the game to say hello to Coach Garroway. Imogen let me know she discussed this with Isabelle and it’s the best course for transitioning her role in your life, regardless of whether or not you decide to hire her as your agent_

_I’ll introduce her around_ , Alec replied.

Alec clicked off his cell and threw it into his bag. He couldn’t stand being this close to Magnus again—only floors away from each other—and yet so emotionally distant. Each detached communication between them became more surreal, because it wasn’t how he felt at all. But he was the one who’d done this. He’d brought them together _and_ ripped them apart.

_Don’t take too long_ Catarina had also said to him. He gritted his teeth and wished Max would tell him what was going on. He didn’t have control over that situation, though, and he was supposed to be focused on the game….

Just like his best friend who was dressing five minutes later than he usually would and had been uncharacteristically quiet all day.

“You knew about Lydia, didn’t you?” Alec asked Jace.

Jace glanced around the locker room before peering down at Alec. “Are you happy about it?”

Alec nodded. “Yeah, it’s a great idea.”

“It was all mine, buddy.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. You know she’s been looking for a career change. Clary and I finally convinced her about it after— The other night. Thought it made sense to at least explore. It sounds like it’s going to work out.”

He understood now why Jace had been as pissed as he was when he’d heard about Magnus. Jace had been working behind the scenes for Alec just as much as Max, Izzy, and Simon were. He’d gone it alone, and as Max had insisted, he really didn’t have to. “It’s really good, Jace. Thank you—for taking that weight off my shoulders.”

“Honestly?” Jace tugged his jersey over his shoulders and faced Alec. “You look like you’re carrying around a three-hundred-pound barbell right now.”

He was, but most of it was weight he had to bear, because there was no way to shake it off right now. How well he played tonight was in his control, though.

Alec glanced around the locker room to make sure there wasn’t anyone from the front office around. “I was here really early this morning and I saw Alaric with Aldertree. They brought him in for a meeting—maybe a try out. He and Alaric were by the practice rink together.”

Next to Alec, Bat stopped taping his stick and his head snapped up. “They brought Victor Aldertree from the Penguins in for a try out?”

Alec shrugged and heads began to turn in their direction with the anger in Bat’s voice.

Even Raphael sneered, that name cutting through Raphael’s usual blasé attitude. “You think it’s possible they found out you’re gay and are looking to replace you?”

That was exactly what he was worried about. “It’s possible.”

“No one in here would say anything,” Emil snarled.

At the severe tone of his voice, their conversation started to draw more attention. For once, Alec didn’t care. He didn’t have anything to hide from these men.

“I know none of you would out me.” Alec looked up at each of his twenty-two teammates in turn. Choosing to let them in. “There are other ways it could’ve gotten out.”

Jace slammed his glove into his locker. “Morgenstern.”

Alec gritted his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. He nodded.

Bosch stomped over. “Are you talking about that ass-wipe money manager who’s in jail for stealing from you?”

“Valentine’s son. He’s been threatening to out me if I don’t bring my business back to him. I thought I’d taken care of that, but he—” Alec clenched his teeth. “He’s a fucking psychopath.”

“And the front office is responding to you being threatened by bringing in a new goalie? Fuck that.”

Alec met Bosch’s eyes. “They don’t know about the blackmail.”

“I don’t fucking care if they do.”

“Aldertree. A Penguin?” Caleb spit out. “Fuck that is right. Fuck Alaric and fuck that shady ass business. You’re _our_ goalie.”

Alec let his teammates’ anger fuel him. “I’m not going to make it easy on them. I have a record to break tonight. I will keep every damn puck out.”

“You won’t have to worry about it,” Hildreth called out. “No Lightning player is getting near you.”

Rousseau knocked his gloved fist against his defensive line partner. “Unless it is up against the boards.”

Bat ripped through his tape with his teeth, molding the grip with meaty fingers. “You remember that movie _The Waterboy_? Where Adam Sandler was a football player who would see the face of the people he hated on the guy he was supposed to tackle, then he’d grind them into the grass mercilessly?” Bat sneered. “Tonight, _every_ Lightning player is Alaric.”

“Watch it, Bat,” Meliorn warned. “No excessive penalties.”

“Let him hit,” Alec replied. “No puck is getting past me—no matter how many penalty minutes you rack up.”

Jace smirked. “This is going to be dirty.”

“Don’t look so happy, Jace,” he chided.

But Alec knew his grin was just as feral as the ones surrounding him.

 

****

 

The massive hits on the Lightning began within seconds of the game starting and the Lightning’s first power play came just minutes later. Magnus had never seen the Angels be so brutal. Even the series with the Devils, who were bruisers, hadn’t been this hard-hitting. The Lightning weren’t prepared for the change in approach, but the fans ate it up—especially when the Angels’ aggression resulted in a score for the home team within seconds of the power play ending.

Magnus didn’t recognize the men on the ice— any of them, not just Alec.

There was a controlled fury behind their play tonight. Tight and vicious. Bodies slammed into the boards and sticks crashed, but they all toed the line of brutal—yet legal—play after the first penalty.

“Hey.”

Magnus turned and took in Max’s frown that matched the tenor of his voice. There were too many possibilities for his wariness, and none that Magnus wished to discuss. Magnus patted the seat next to him. “Using Isabelle’s press pass to crash the party?”

“No jokes, Magnus,” Max said. “This isn’t going to go that way.”

Magnus nodded. “Okay then.”

Max silently dropped into the seat next to him. It was possible Max knew what had happened before the game to cause all of the Angels to play as if they were hell-spawn instead of heaven-sent, but that was information he didn’t want to be privy to anymore.

The first period ended, time ticking down halfway into the second, and the hits were just as hard as the violence with which the Angels slammed the puck into the back of the Lightning’s net over and over again. And still Max remained quiet. Unlike the one game they’d watched together that had been filled with uncomfortable silence, Magnus eased more and more with each second that passed.

Maybe it was because, between the two of them, they had developed an understanding without the need to say anything at all.

Max glanced up at the scoreboard. There was less than two minutes left to play in the second period and the Angels were up zero-five. Max stood. “I should get back downstairs before the game ends.”

“Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Those names you sent over—” Max winced. “They led exactly where you thought they would. We have everything we need on Morgenstern now.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

Max nodded. “I can make that happen.”

Magnus ran his thumb down the line of finger and sat back. “Good. It’s time for all of us to move on.”

 

****

 

There were two more minutes of play left in the second period, and Alec didn’t want the game to end. He was getting so much satisfaction out of the increasing frustration of the Lightning.

Alec skated out of the net and took possession of the puck behind the goal, even with the Lightning already tearing up the ice toward him. He held onto the puck, waiting for his forwards to battle their way into the right position. He was always careful when he was outside the net and the puck was in play, more conservative than some other goalies when it came to the width and breadth of the distance he played from the net. Tonight, though, all the tension Alec had been carrying with him for almost a week had come out in a vengeance for his territory.

The Lightning weren’t prepared for him to push at his usual boundaries, and their winger certainly wasn’t prepared for the twist of Alec’s body that sent the player off-kilter and careening into the boards instead of taking possession of the puck.

The winger swore at him, but Alec was already flinging the puck down the ice to Romanov, who brutalized his way through the defenders as if they’d insulted his entire line of ancestors. Romanov’s pass to Mantas was right on target and Mantas whipped his stick back, the lamp lighting up for the Angels’ sixth goal.

The flare of red behind the Lightning goaltender had become familiar. Just as much as the fury driving him forward. He and his teammates weren’t the only ones whose anger bled onto the ice, though.

With each score, the shots on goal crashed harder into Alec as the Lightning became more desperate. Alec used every inch of his body to keep every attempt out. He stretched his limits and played past the stinging ache in his knee.

The Lightning forward line attempted to pass the puck between them but were dogged at every cut of their skates. The Angels’ defensive line drove the Lightning forwards farther and farther back from the net. At nearly the centerline, the Lightning’s center rocketed his stick back and sent the puck flying. Alec stood up and slid across the ice to cover the top left corner of the net, but Bat put himself in front of the puck before it could get close to Alec. The puck hurtled forward, then crashed into Bat, sending his head snapping back. A chorus of horrified gasps went up from the crowd and even with Bat’s back to him, Alec knew what he’d see on the arena screen when the replay started up.

Refs called play to a stop as blood poured from Bat’s face, and he turned to face Kadir as their trainer and medical team took to the ice. Alec sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of two teeth, maybe three, that had been knocked out of Bat’s mouth. The officials scooped ice into a bucket, clearing it of blood, and Bat grinned at Jace, who was leaning against the home bench shaking his head, his dimples popping out. Bat knocked his glove against the outstretched hands of fans seated by the tunnel as he was led away for treatment.

“Now we’re playing hockey!” Jace called out.

Alec couldn’t help but laugh.

The refs gestured for the teams to set up for a faceoff, but there were only seconds left in the second period. The horn sounded almost immediately after the puck was dropped, and Alec and the rest of the Angels tromped down the tunnel to the locker room with the sounds of a standing ovation echoing in their ears.

Alec flipped his cage up and met Bat’s eyes where he sat on the bench, blood smeared on his chin. “Nice save.”

Bat’s responding wide, gaping grin was sheer madness.

Garroway stomped into the locker room and everyone fell silent. He eyed them warily. “All of you have lost your damn collective mind. Anything we need to talk about?”

Alec looked around to his teammates—who were all staring right back at him, waiting for him to answer.

Alec swiped a hand over his beard. “We’re, uh…good?”

“Was that a question?” Garroway growled.

Alec cleared his throat. “No, Coach.”

“Good. Then whatever it is that’s driving all of you to the brink of insanity and lighting up that lamp…. Keep it the fuck up. We have twenty minutes left.”

The Angels’ took to the ice in the third period with renewed fire in their veins. Every check against the boards sent shockwaves down the glass. Every play was a vicious struggle for the puck.

With nine minutes left in the game, Emil slammed into a Lightning forward, lifting him off his skates and sending him crashing to the ice. The responding roar from the fans was deafening. The hit was harsh but clean, and the refs kept play moving as the winger headed for the bench, wincing in pain.

Alec surveyed the ice and realized that hit was a tipping point. The Lightning had abandoned their strategy-focused play in favor of hitting just as hard. Going after the puck with just as much viciousness. The refs barked out warnings that every player ignored.

They were on the cusp of a brawl. Both teams poised at the edge and ready to jump at the next hint of provocation. Usually this would be when Meliorn was calling for calm, but even he had a wildness to his play.

Alec sped out of the crease to swipe the puck to Hildreth’s waiting stick so he could clear the puck out of Angels’ territory. Both teams descended into the defensive zone and crashed against each other. Alec’s pass connected with Hildreth just as he was slammed against the glass and the puck went lose, instigating an all-out war for possession. Garroway sent the first line back on when the puck made it out of the melee and past the home bench.

It had been less than ten seconds since the last line change, and Alec realized with a chill that the Angels were wearing themselves down faster than they usually would. Faster than the minutes left on the clock.

Alec gritted his teeth and called out to his teammates. “This is our home. _Our_ home.”

The players on the bench pounded the boards. Santiago dug his skates in, Jace clenched his jaw, Meliorn winged down the ice, and Pangborn and Velasquez cleared their path with brutal efficiency. The Lightning’s goalie set himself in a strong butterfly stance as the Angels’ forwards closed in on him, but at the last second Jace skidded to a sudden stop and flipped the puck to Pangborn, who angled the puck under the goalie’s arm and into the net.

The ice under Alec’s skates shook with the shouts of twenty-thousand fans. Alec smiled when he looked up at the scoreboard.

There was no way for the Lightning to win this game, no matter how aggressively they pushed for the goal. The seconds ticked down, and every line of Angels’ D-men drove them back, the Angels’ intensity skyrocketing as the Lightning’s flagged.

The Lightning pulled their goalie in a last-minute attempt to overpower the Angels and Alec prepared to defend against the extra man on the ice. He was seconds away from holding the league record for the most number of shutouts in a playoff season. He’d made it this far, he was keeping every damn puck out.

The sixth man shot onto the ice, and Alec gripped his stick tighter when he realized it was the Lightning’s highest scorer.

Alec looked to Bat. “I got this. Just make sure I have room to move.”

Bat nodded and took down the ice to pass the defensive strategy on to Pangborn. The puck was on the other side of the rink, and the Angels were pushing toward the empty net. With the addition of the sixth man the balance tipped, and a line of four Lightning forwards was suddenly barreling down on Alec. Velasquez and Pangborn shoved two of the forwards out of contention for the puck and held them back, while Meliorn scrapped with the center who had possession, trying to steal the puck away.

The Lightning center flicked the puck off his stick and sent it soaring ahead, where the sixth man batted it down to the ice mere feet in front of Alec. He met Alec’s eyes for less than a breath, then slammed the puck forward.

Alec hurtled across the crease, crashing to the ice. The puck slammed against his chest, ricocheting directly to Santiago’s waiting stick. Alec shot to his feet, scrambling to defend the other side of the net, but Santiago threaded through the Lightning players like they were amateurs, holding onto the puck until the last possible second, then dumping it into the empty net just as time expired.

The entire team leaped over the boards to the sound of the final buzzer, as if they were already headed to the finals instead of still one game away.

Eight shutouts in the playoffs. Three wins in the conference finals.

Alec was bombarded from all sides. Encased in a mass of sweaty, rank hockey players who crushed up against him in celebration.

It was the first time Alec felt like he’d taken a full breath in days.

 

****

 

Magnus looked away from the celebration happening on the ice and pulled his lipgloss from his pocket. His heart had been beating out of his chest since the Lightning’s last shot on goal, and his breath was coming in too-shallow gasps for anyone else in the suite to see him like this. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes trying to regain his equilibrium, but there was no way to shut out the victory celebration happening around him.

A hand rested on Magnus’ shoulder and he jumped.

“I’m going to take Lydia down to the locker room now,” Imogen said.

Magnus opened the tube of lipgloss, spreading a thin layer over his lips. He couldn’t continue to be this affected by Alec. He had to see Alec in person before the negotiation.

He shook his head. “Please. Allow me to.”

Imogen searched his face for only a second before she gave him a clipped nod. “Very well. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow then.”

Imogen made her way to the door, passing by Lydia for a brief word before exiting. Magnus stood, taking a moment to smooth his hands over the front of his suit, then mounted the steps.

Lydia caught his eye as he joined her near the food table, and she smiled warmly. “I thought Imogen was going to take me down to the locker room, but she said she had to take off and to wait for you. What’s up?”

“I’m going to take you down to see Alec so he can introduce you to the coaching staff. He knows you’re coming.”

Lydia’s lips tugged into a frown. “Does he know _you_ are?”

Magnus shrugged that consideration away even as his stomach rolled. “We have to see each other eventually.”

“But like this?”

“It’s better this way,” he said through clenched teeth. He was saying that a lot lately. “I can’t show any weakness at negotiations, so it’s better to see him face-to-face now instead of then.”

Lydia set her hand on his arm. “Okay. Lead the way.”

Magnus nodded and held the door for Lydia. They checked through security and rode a secured elevator to the player level.

The elevator doors slid open before Magnus was fully prepared—and beginning to wonder if this was the right decision at all. Clary stood in the hallway and her gaze flicked between him and Lydia. “You didn’t tell me you were coming down….”

Magnus forced himself to step out of the elevator. “I didn’t tell anyone, biscuit.”

Clary hugged him quickly. “Just so you know, everyone is by the locker room.”

Magnus nodded and pushed back his shoulders.

Max stood outside the locker room, flipping a puck. He nodded to Magnus but didn’t say anything to Lydia, who strode confidently into the locker room when Magnus gestured for her to go ahead. Izzy caught eyes with him, her lips pulling apart as if she was going to say something to him, but her eyes began to shine with unshed tears instead.

Magnus’ heart hurt. “Hello, Isabelle.”

She pounced on him, winding her arms so tightly around him he could barely breathe.

“Isabelle—” he choked out.

She shook her head and loosened her hold, but refused to let him go.

Magnus drew upon the strength of her arms around him and attempted to match her deep, calming breaths of surety and affection. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her hands sliding down his arms as she pulled away. Then she slumped down the hallway, swiping at her eyes. Not saying a word.

Magnus raised an eyebrow at Simon.

“She didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Simon explained. “I don’t think Alec is either.”

Magnus turned toward the locker room. He reconsidered whether he was going to go in there at all, but there were more people in there and more space than this hallway. An opportunity to be in a very public setting where he would be forced to keep his emotions in check. He stepped inside.

Every intention of holding his ground flew out of his head the second his eyes landed on Alec. His hair was wet, haphazardly brushed back from his forehead by fingers, his beard more ragged, as if it hadn’t been properly clipped in days, and the sleeves of his blue sweatshirt—the same one Magnus had placed in a box last night—were pushed to his elbows. Seeing Alec in his Angels’ sweatshirt wasn’t something he could’ve prepared himself for, but that wasn’t what left Magnus struggling for air as if someone had taken a fist to his gut.

Alec smiled. His eyes were bright as he chuckled with a gap-toothed teammate. He was content in the moment.

As if he wasn’t missing anything at all.

A wave of grief and longing rippled along Magnus’ skin. Like the memories of every kiss from Alec, every touch, had been stripped away, leaving a blank canvas.

No. An empty shell.

Magnus had spent too long frozen in the doorway, so he forced his feet to move. Clary stepped up beside him and clasped his hand for only a second, reassuring him she was still with him. At least there were enough people in the room that Alec hadn’t noticed Magnus’ presence—let alone his hesitation—yet.

Jace was at Lydia’s side, across the room from Alec, and Magnus snapped his shoulders back and wound through the players to meet up with them. A path cleared for him, as if none of them could stand the possibility of being touched by him.

Jace didn’t hesitate to step forward and clap a hand around Magnus’ shoulder. “Thanks for bringing Lydia down. I know this probably isn’t the most comfortable place for you to be right now.”

Magnus searched Jace’s face, seeking any indication that Jace was being patronizing, and found only sincerity. Out of all the shows of support he’d received tonight, this one was the biggest surprise. Jace was his client, but he was Alec’s best friend first. Before Magnus could think of anything to say, he caught sight of Coach Garroway crossing the room, headed their way. Magnus tugged at the hem of his suit coat and dropped into his professional persona.

“Good evening, Magnus. Susanna texted me, said you had someone for me to meet?”

“Congratulations on the win.” Magnus shook Coach Garroway’s hand. “This is Lydia Branwell. She’s IE’s newest sports agent.”

Lydia clasped Garroway’s hand. “We’ve actually been at a few events together. The last time was at the charity night in December.”

Garroway nodded. “I remember. What can I do for you, Ms. Branwell?”

“Absolutely nothing right now. I just wanted you to get used to seeing my face around here.”

Garroway lifted an eyebrow. “Are you repping any of my players?”

“Not yet.”

Garroway’s gaze flitted between Magnus and Lydia. “I’ll look forward to seeing you around here more.” He tipped his head. “Magnus.”

“Have a good evening, Coach Garroway.”

The player next to Alec—Velasquez, Magnus recalled—caught eyes with Magnus and scowled, placing a hand on Alec’s shoulder as if he was trying to steer him away. Pangborn was the first to catch on, maneuvering to place himself between Magnus and Alec’s line of sight. Magnus cringed. Apparently, his teammates knew who Magnus was—rather, _had been_ —to Alec, and their reaction indicated Alec needed to be protected from him.

Jace was already leading Lydia over to their group and Alec embraced her tightly, his smile growing. Magnus watched as the chill fell off Pangborn and Velasquez as they greeted her warmly. She tipped her head and made a joke about Velasquez’s lack of teeth. Even the stoic Santiago’s lips twitched into a smile.

Magnus couldn’t bring himself to move. He hesitated to witness how the dynamics would change when he stepped up to their group. Lydia was merely accepted—she floated seamlessly into Alec’s world in a way Magnus never had.

It wasn’t her fault that the world was tilted more in her favor than it would ever be for Magnus. From what he was learning of her, Lydia would likely admit that she’d had an easier path to climb than him. The world was a much different place than it had been decades ago. Perceptions of him were better, but that didn’t change that having Lydia as an agent would make doors open for Alec in a much less complicated way.

Their differences didn’t end at that professional boundary line either. He remembered Max saying how different he and Alec were when Magnus had shown up to the Devils’ game in Versace. Yet Magnus hadn’t understood until this exact second how true those words were.

He and Alec weren’t just different—they were _too_ different. Their worlds incompatible.

Magnus had said it to Clary days ago, and repeated it many times since then, but now he really believed it—he and Alec not being together was better for both of them.

“Come on,” Clary urged, still at his side. “Let’s go home.”

Magnus glanced at the doorway where Max leaned against the jam, his jaw tight, and Izzy was tucked under Simon’s arm, her eyes reddened. None of them could continue like this.

He shook his head at Clary. “No. I have to get this over with.”

 

****

 

Alec smiled at Lydia and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning in. “I know Imogen said I can wait until after the negotiation to make my decision, but I love the idea of you taking over as my agent.”

Lydia’s features softened. “Good. I think it will work too. But, Alec—”

Jace shifted subtly towards them, gaining their attention. “Heads up.”

Alec’s gaze flitted to the side, watching the players part as Magnus stalked proudly towards them.

Alec flinched in surprise. His heart pounded so hard his hands shook.

He closed his hands around his ribs, trying to hold himself together, but that just made him more aware of the worn material under his fingertips. Of the sweatshirt he’d pulled on as soon as he’d showered because he’d wanted Magnus to be with him, somehow, in the midst of this celebration.

The sweatshirt smelled like Magnus and that was only magnified with Magnus’ presence less than two feet away, so close Alec could have reached out for him and begged to talk to him, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He was too afraid of what he would see.

Lydia kept her gaze on him, starting up a one-sided conversation on the intricacies of the league certification process. Alec closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in and trying to force his heart to beat evenly.

“Alec,” Lydia clipped out, demanding he place his focus back on her even as she lowered her voice. “It’s going to be okay.”

Alec peered down at her. “I can’t look at him.”

Lydia frowned. “This isn’t the place, but we need to talk about this—about him and _you_ , Lightwood.”

Alec ground his teeth together at her flash of disapproval, but before he could say anything, Magnus’ voice was crashing into him like a tidal wave.

“Congratulations on your new record, Alec. You’re building an unassailable argument for your next contract.”

Alec tried to hold back the grief, guilt, and self-directed anger clamping like a vice around his chest and turned toward Magnus.

He met Magnus’ eyes. “My contract is the last thing I care about right now.”

Magnus had no reaction. His gold-green eyes were blank, as if he were looking at a stranger.

Alec could have sworn his heart skittered to a stop.

All of those days denying his attraction, then weeks spent fighting to keep Magnus at his side. All of those months and years into the future he’d hoped they’d still have….

It was all gone.

He mumbled an apology to Lydia and stalked out.

 

****

 

Magnus eyed Izzy warily as she strode around his office discussing the plans for Alec’s coming out. All things Magnus knew already. All things that Magnus didn’t need to know since he’d no longer be Alec’s agent in a few days.

At least Magnus was able to restrain a wince every time she said his name. He hadn’t been able to get the image of Alec walking out on him—again—out of his head since last night.

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. “So how long must we maintain the charade that you’re here on business?”

Izzy wasn’t at all fazed by the question. She continued to peruse the books along Magnus’ wall and didn’t meet his eyes when she answered. “Max told me what you’re doing today. What happens with Sebastian is my business.”

“Morgenstern isn’t why you’re here.”

Izzy traced a graceful finger down the spine of one of the books, pulling it off the shelf. Magnus squirmed uncomfortably at her choice.

She turned the Tarasov book over in her hands and finally looked at him. “Did you know this is actually Alec’s book? He got this when he was twelve—a birthday present supposedly from our parents, but I made them buy it for him.”

Magnus swallowed harshly. “That exact copy?”

Izzy nodded.

“I didn’t know. Please. Take it with you.”

“He wanted you to have it.” She put the book back on the shelf and sat down in the chair across from him. “He has this blackboard next to his front door and it has these tally marks on it. I asked him about it a few weeks back and he pushed off answering me, so I knew it meant something important to him. Finally he told me about the gifts the two of you had been giving to each other and your scoring count. But I noticed…. He made you the home team on that board, Magnus. I don’t know if he even realizes he did that.”

Magnus sat forward and straightened his spine, attempting to push away his discomfort. He’d realized after his conversation with Alec about the keys that he’d been doing the same thing. “It doesn’t matter now. He only wants me to be his agent—and in that role only through his negotiation.”

Izzy’s lips tugged into a frown. “Magnus, _mijo_ , you gave him a key to your apartment and didn’t take it back. I saw both of you in that locker room after the game—you look at him the way Simon looks at me, and Alec is no different. Look, Magnus. I get it. You both have really good reasons why this can’t work right now. But on the other hand, you’re both _pendejos_. You need me to translate that?”

“I understand the spirit behind it. But I don’t have a say in this, Isabelle. Alec made his choice.”

“Well it’s a stupid choice that I refuse to accept, and you shouldn’t either.”

“The truth is, Isabelle…. Whatever reasoning Alec used to make his choice—attempting to protect me or for his own self-interests—he made it without me.”

“He made a _mistake_. What about a restart? Take that blackboard and begin with a clean slate?”

Magnus couldn’t erase the hurt of that bracelet in his desk instead of on Alec’s wrist. He couldn’t wipe away the words Alec had thrown at him so callously.

Magnus shook his head. He was digging his heels in and he knew it. But he’d been with enough people to know when to cut his losses because it would never work. “A clean slate implies there aren’t marks left behind. It’s not going to happen.”

Izzy tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned forward. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Then he can call me.”

“You wouldn’t pick up,” Izzy insisted. “But it’s the night before a home game. Won’t he be at your place tonight?”

Magnus tapped his nails against the desk, restraining a full body cringe. He hadn’t been back to his loft yet and still couldn’t stomach the thought of the remnants he’d come home to. “Even if he is, I won’t be.”

“He deserves another chance.”

Magnus held strong. He got to his feet, and answered her as he walked to the bookshelf. “I like you, Isabelle, but please respect my decision on this. The only thing I can concentrate on right now is getting Alec free of Morgenstern and renewing his contract so I can hand him over to Lydia.” Keeping the Tarasov book had been an impulse—one he was regretting now. It hadn’t helped him understand Alec any better before, and it wouldn’t help now. He tipped the book out of its spot and held it out to her. “This isn’t mine.”

Izzy glared at him. “So give it back to him yourself. I’m not going to be the one to deliver your punishment to Alec.” She stormed to her feet and went for the door.

Magnus held the book in his hands for a second more as the door slammed shut, running her words over and over in his head.

He placed the book back on his shelf.

 

****

 

Alec closed his eyes and lay back on the lounge chair, the afternoon summer sun and the words of _The Charioteer_ rolling over him as he tried to relax on his rooftop balcony. He’d lost count of how many times now he’d returned to his favorite parts of the book once he’d listened to it all the way through. Each time he lost himself in Mary Renault’s words, new ideas for his mask popped into his head. He’d told Clary he wasn’t sure what he wanted on the rest of it quite yet, but that wasn’t the full truth. And despite how things stood with Magnus right now, what he wanted the mask to represent wouldn’t change.

The audio cut off and Alec peered at his screen, sighing when he saw Izzy’s name. There hadn’t been any easy conversations with her since Magnus had come to Pittsburgh, but he’d never stop answering her calls. “Hey, sis.”

“I just saw Magnus.”

Alec thumped his head against the chair. “And?”

“I’m sorry.” Izzy sounded…insecure. Alec could count on one hand the number of times he’d heard her sound anything but completely sure of herself. “I thought that maybe if I went to see him, if we talked face-to-face….”

Alec swallowed around the knot in his throat. “He doesn’t want to talk me.”

“Are you still going to his place tonight?”

He wasn’t even debating that. “I can’t.”

“ _Mi hermano_. Go. You won’t know for sure until you talk to him. Magnus— You can’t leave things like this. I know I told you to stay away from each other, but—” Izzy’s voice caught. “I didn’t mean like this.”

Alec’s heart ached at the despair in his sister’s voice. He may have been a shield, protecting his family and fending off blows. And Max may have been a sword, slicing through attacks with callously worded precision and ease. But Izzy…. Izzy was the forge—she tempered their strength with her contained fire. When they came out of a fight with nicks and scratches, she melted away the damage and smoothed it out, building them up stronger than they had been before.

Because she was so resilient and steady on the outside, it was easy for Alec to forget that fires that burned too ferociously ate up all the oxygen and kindling and risked sputtering out of life.

He’d asked too much from her and not given enough back.

“Iz.” Alec swore under his breath and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. “What happened between Magnus and me, it’s not your fault. And it’s definitely not yours to fix.”

Izzy sighed. “But I want to. For you.”

“I know you do. And I love you for that. But you have your own high-pressure career that you work your ass off to succeed in, and a geeky husband who probably wants to drag you to some all-night Star Wars movie marathon, but would happily spend hours in the dressing room at Macy’s instead because he loves you just that much….” Izzy laughed and Alec felt a smile tugging at his own lips. “You’ve built an amazing life, Iz, and I’m proud of you for that. The best thing you can do for me is to live that life and be happy.”

Izzy sniffled. “If you were here right now I’d hit you for making me cry.”

Alec smiled. “I know.”

Izzy fell silent and Alec waited her out. He’d derailed the topic she’d called about, and Izzy wouldn’t hang up without saying everything she wanted to.

“Just…. Text him and tell him you want to talk, Alec. If you don’t then you’ll never know.”

“It really is better if I don’t.”

“Not communicating is _never_ better,” Izzy insisted. “And it can’t get any worse than it is now.”

Alec pulled his knees to his chest. “It can.”

“You need to know for sure that it’s really over.”

After seeing Magnus last night, he already was. “I can’t, Iz. Thank you for trying, though.”

“I love you, Alec.”

“I know. I love you too.”

Alec hung up the call and slumped against the chair, his audiobook restarting immediately.

His thoughts were wrapped up sorting through everything Izzy had said to him when the name ‘Alec’ coming through his headphones tugged him back into the world of his book. The Alec of _The Charioteer_ knew he was attracted to men and didn’t live his life in the open, but when faced with a forced outing he dealt with it with strength.

Then there was Laurie—the novel’s protagonist. A soldier, gravely wounded, struggling to reclaim his life in an unsure, chaotic time. The metaphor didn’t exactly match his own life, but it was close enough. He’d been wounded by Raj. Wounded by his parents. Wounded by his own inability to live his truth. His life, like Laurie’s, was unsettled.

Alec tapped on the menu and scrolled through his bookmarks, locating one of his favorite parts—a quote from Roger, Laurie’s love interest. They were words Alec returned to over and over again when he was overwhelmed:

 

_“You mustn’t get so upset about what you feel…. No one’s a hundred percent consistent all the time. We might like to be. We can plan our lives along certain lines. But you know, there’s no future in screwing down all the pressure valves and smashing in the gauge. You can do it for a bit and then something goes.”_

 

Alec paused the book, then went back to the beginning of the quote, listening to it over and over again. Each time, the ache in his chest increased. Each time, his frustration built.

When he shut down, he shut people out. And that was exactly the mistake he’d made with Magnus. Instead of showing his fear and allowing Magnus to work through it with him, he’d instinctively pushed Magnus away.

If he had any chance of salvaging a future with Magnus, he had to let him in.

He opened his messages and sent a text to Magnus.

 

****

 

Magnus matched the speed of his steps to Max’s easy stride as they wove through Manhattan’s lunchtime crowds. Their ambling pace was in complete opposition to the uncertainty they were heading into and Magnus’ inner drive to _move_ , yet it was comforting walking shoulder to shoulder with Max. So Magnus ignored the crowded sidewalk, tuned out the cheerful banter surrounding them, and soaked in the warmth of the afternoon sun just as readily as Max’s quiet confidence.

He was going to need every ounce of it to face Sebastian Morgenstern.

He knew only half of what Max did—and even less about how Max, Izzy, and Simon had accomplished gaining the information through a network of confidantes, sources, and their own deviousness. It was unlike any negotiation he’d ever walked into, but he trusted them and the information they’d collected implicitly.

Magnus’ cell vibrated and he picked it out of his pocket, stumbling when he saw Alec’s name on his screen. Max helped him regain his balance as Magnus opened the text.

_Can we talk? I can come to your loft tonight if that’s ok_

Magnus clicked the screen dark and put his cell away again without answering.

“Are you sure you want to handle most of this?” he asked Max. Again.

Max nipped at his lip, thinking. His hair had grown longer in the last few weeks, and his curls dropped over his forehead. That Max was only nineteen years old was painfully clear in the moment.

“Yeah. It’s going to be easier than me trying to walk you through all of it.”

“Okay.”

“Alec still doesn’t know anything about this,” Max said, almost to himself. He glanced up at Magnus. “Unless you told him.”

Magnus adjusted his sunglasses, surveying the sidewalk ahead instead of meeting Max’s piercing gaze. “That is not something you need to worry about.”

“Are we going to talk about it at all? Alec breaking up with you?”

“I don’t want to, do you?”

Max came to an abrupt stop, then tugged Magnus out of the sea of people. “Yeah, actually I do.”

Magnus snapped his cuffs into place when Max let go of him and resisted the urge to fiddle with his rings. Max set his hands on his hips and looked over the crowd. Magnus pulled his shoulders back, preparing himself for a speech that would be very different than the ‘be careful’ warning Max had given him just weeks ago.

Max ran his fingers through his hair and faced Magnus. “You remember that first night I met you?”

That wasn’t the conversational direction he’d expected. Magnus lifted his sunglasses off. “I do.”

“I called myself out by pointing out I use sarcasm to deflect attention from my leg. Then I gave you shit about sniffing out your emotional insecurities, and you made a joke about having daddy issues. You were so off-hand about it that none of us had any idea what that really meant.” Max leaned against the building behind him, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t completely honest that night either. It’s not just my leg that I try to keep attention off of—there are other parts of my life I’m trying to reconcile. And watching how confident you are with yourself now, even with everything that’s happened in your past…. I’m proud to call you a friend, but…. With you and Alec, I’d hoped—”

Max swore under his breath, cutting off however he was going to finish that sentence. But Magnus knew.

Less than a week ago he’d hoped there was a future with he and Alec too.

And not just Alec. He’d been enchanted by _all_ of the Lightwood siblings—drawn in by their fierce honesty and captured by their stubborn loyalty. He had to let Alec go, but he hadn’t even considered cutting Max and Izzy out of his life.

As he stood in front of Max, his heart rending apart at Max’s inability to meet his eyes, he realized he hadn’t contemplated that maybe _they_ wouldn’t want to be a part of his life anymore.

He swallowed. Attempted to hold his tears back. “And now?”

Max blew out a long breath and looked to Magnus again. “Even if you and Alec are done, I’m not giving up the apartment in your building. It’s where I need to be because of my workshop, but it’s also where I want to be because then I can come over, kick back, and have a drink with you. I want to keep talking to you because I respect what you have to say….” Max’s lips tipped into the hints of a smirk. “And also because I don’t think I’ve given you quite enough shit yet. I hope you can be okay with that.”

Magnus’ shoulders eased, and he smiled. He had to. It would be difficult to see Alec, but there was no question. “Of course I’m okay with that, Max.”

“Good.” Max pushed off the wall, all insecurity shedding off him, and clapped Magnus on the back. “Now let’s go decimate this asshole.”

Magnus spent the remaining two blocks to the Morgenstern & Morgenstern high-rise banishing every thought in his head that didn’t relate to today’s meeting.

He approached the visitor’s desk with his professional persona firmly in place. “Magnus Bane to see Sebastian Morgenstern.”

The man tapped at his screen, refusing to make eye contact. “Is he expecting you?”

“Call up and tell him I’m here with Max Lightwood. I have no doubt he’ll want to see both of us. Immediately.”

The man begrudgingly picked up his phone and barely had their names out of his mouth before he was waving over another staff member to escort them to the top floor.

Sebastian greeted them at the elevator, his arms stretched wide and a haughty grin on his lips. “Magnus Bane and Maxwell Lightwood. You’re lucky I have time for you, I just cancelled a meeting. I’m quite sure the honor is all yours.”

Magnus swallowed down his pride, but held it close—reserving it for the moment he knew would come at the end of this. “You had a deal for both of us. We’re here to talk.”

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses too.” Sebastian grinned. “Come inside.”

He and Max took the two seats in front of Sebastian’s desk and Sebastian perched himself in the oversized black leather chair. “It appears you’ve done well for yourself despite your limitations, Maxwell.”

Magnus’ blood heated with each discordant beat of his heart, but Max merely tipped his head in question. “And what would those be?”

“Your brother is a world class athlete and you’re a cripple.”

Magnus dug his fingernails into the arms of the chair. He’d asked Max multiple times how he wanted to handle this, and Max had repeatedly stated he had it under control. Magnus ground his teeth together and kept silent.

Max leaned forward, knocking his fist against his prosthetic. “See, here’s the thing about this leg. People assume that I lost brain cells when this came off. I’d blame the severe underfunding of our public education system for a lack of comprehensive biology curriculum, but I’m pretty sure you went to private school. So I don’t know what your excuse is.”

Sebastian’s features clouded. “That seems like a rather antagonistic statement when we’re talking about going into business together.”

“Are we?”

“Are we not?”

Max shook his head. “I’d like to talk about you—since you seem to believe the world was created to carry you on its shoulders.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “That sounds as if it was meant to be mildly offensive. Your brother seems to have a different opinion of me, as does Jace Wayland. Or didn’t they tell you that they contacted me directly and agreed to entrust the money from their next contracts to Morgenstern & Morgenstern?”

No matter how tightly controlled Magnus had deemed himself to be, he couldn’t hold back his shock. He frantically searched Sebastian’s face for any indication of a lie. There was no way he could be telling the truth, yet Sebastian smiled with satisfaction at Magnus’ reaction. Magnus glanced at Max and saw fury building in the tightening of his shoulders and the defiant tilt of his chin.

Whatever Alec’s reasons, it was yet another decision that Alec had made without consulting him—or apparently, Max. “Did either of them sign anything?”

Sebastian’s cool gaze slid his way. “That seems like something _you_ should know.”

Max gritted his teeth so hard Magnus could hear the rough sound. “So we’re adding collusion to your list of crimes?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let me list them for you. Blackmail, extortion, illegally accessing private communications—” Max’s voice was growing in volume with each word, then he stopped himself. Took a deep breath. “You know what? You already know what they are. Instead, let’s talk about the inequities of our justice system.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Well isn’t this going to be an enlightening conversation? Please do.”

Max mirrored Sebastian’s position. “Stalking is already a severely under-sentenced crime, but for male victims? The statistics are even more appalling. And hacking is exceedingly hard to prove if you hire the right people—which you did. Kudos to you by the way. Blackmail and extortion both have high conviction rates, but low penalties. And for either of those you’d probably end up in a white collar prison like your father and Hodge Starkweather, and let’s be real, I’m looking for you to suffer a bit more than that.”

“Is that so?” Sebastian said with complete calm.

But Magnus had been involved with enough negotiations to read the subtle clues that gave a person away—the sharpened cheekbones when Sebastian clenched his teeth. A miniscule shift to his position in the chair. Max was already getting to him.

Magnus eased his grip on the armrest. Max had this well under control.

“I don’t know….” Max waved a hand in the air. “Maybe it would be enough for you to suffer like the people you victimized? You know, the ones I read about in your sealed juvenile records, Seb— I mean, Jonathan Christopher?”

The blood drained from Sebastian’s face, and he began to stand. “How did you—Get out—”

“I’m not even close to finished,” Max growled.

“I advise that you take your seat again, Jonathan,” Magnus added.

Sebastian’s face contorted, but he sat down heavily.

“Continue, Max. I’m finding this all very enlightening as well.” Magnus slid his gaze from Sebastian and pretended to study his nails. He’d lacquered them with a bright shade of red to offset his black and gray pinstripe suit. Today his clothes and makeup were for armor _and_ fun.

“And shockingly…. Did I say shockingly? ‘Cause I didn’t mean that—I wasn’t shocked at all….”—Max held up three fingers—“Your real problem is threefold. One. My parents know about your fraudulent real estate transactions and that you and your father lied about Alec’s money. Any protection you were expecting from them has now vanished.

“Two. You tipped your hand by feeding that information about Magnus’ biological father to my parents. Discovering how you’d gotten access to his files only took a few phone calls. Turns out, you hired a man who is known for his ability to dig up information that was never meant to see the light of day, and that’s exactly what he did—for _us_. I think that’s called ‘networking,’ but I really hate business clichés. So let’s just call this one what it is—a big fuck you.

“Three—and this one is important, so I really need you to pay attention here.” Max leaned forward, his voice dropping low. “You may think that you’ve protected yourself by currently using a name that’s disconnected from your past, but it was appallingly easy to track down your hidden bank accounts and real estate holdings once we knew your birth name. Unfortunately for you, Hodge Starkweather confirmed that your father doesn’t know about any of those accounts. I get the feeling that Valentine doesn’t have healthy conflict resolution skills—but that’s your issue, not mine. So I put together a package of information for your father and his attorney that will be delivered to them if you decide to go ahead with any of your threats. _All_ of our extensive research into your various criminal endeavors is currently sitting in encrypted files scattered on servers across the globe, just waiting to be sent to media and authorities unless you disappear from our lives without another word. You may be able to avoid prosecution and a very messy scandal if you run fast enough. Or maybe not. That decision isn’t up to me.” Max sat back. “But what do I really know? ‘Cause I am just a cripple.”

Sweat beaded at Sebastian’s brow as he crushed his lips into a thin line, and fisted his hands on the desk.

Max peered at Magnus when Sebastian didn’t reply, whispering, “I think I broke him.”

Magnus shrugged, yet was unable to hold back a smirk. Sebastian was frightened and Magnus took great pleasure from that.

Max picked his cell out of his pocket and glanced at the time. “Looks like we’re late for lunch. Magnus, you hungry?”

“I know this great Ethiopian place just around the corner.”

Magnus stood with Max, heading for the door.

Sebastian’s chair creaked behind him, wheels grinding against the floor. The hair at the back of Magnus’ neck stood on end.

“How do I know you haven’t already turned over everything you have?”

Magnus paused with his hand on the door.

He’d faced the specter of his past. He’d already had his heart torn open, and been exposed to painful truths about the impossibility of a future with Alec. He was moving past his deeply-seated questions of his own worth and value, and fighting for what was best for him. He was _winning_ that battle and it would continue to be more treacherous than anything Sebastian could ever throw at him.

He didn’t have anything left to fear from this man.

Magnus met Sebastian’s eyes. “You don’t. But Alec and I are no longer together and he’s already out to his entire team—your threats are now much less threatening than they once were. What would amount to a few days of tumultuousness in the twenty-four-hour news cycle for us would lead to a lifetime in prison for you.” Magnus smiled then, throwing Sebastian’s words back at him. “It seems like a rather easy choice to me.”

Sebastian placed his palms on his desk, leaning on it as if for support.

Magnus tipped his chin up. “I’ll take your silence as acknowledgment that we have a deal.”

Magnus opened the door for Max and didn’t look back.

As soon as the elevator doors closed and they were alone, Magnus was enveloped into the arms of the bravest Lightwood.

“Jesus, that sucked. And not in a fun way.”

Magnus huffed out a laugh and held tight to Max. “You were flawless, Max.”

The elevator opened on the ground floor and they swept into the lobby, a lightness to both of their steps that hadn’t been there when they’d entered.

“Hodge Starkweather…?” Magnus asked. He hadn’t known Max had had any contact with Alec’s old agent. “When did you talk to him?”

“I didn’t.”

Magnus held the door open for Max as they stepped outside. Max’s shoulders lifted with a deep inhale that he held onto like he was gathering strength.

Magnus set his hand on Max’s shoulder and guided him to a private spot away from the building. “Who did?”

“It was my dad. He called Hodge and talked to him after he saw the evidence against Valentine.”

Magnus’ hand dropped from Max in shock.

Max pushed his curls off his forehead with shaking fingers. “Believe me, I was as surprised as you when he called to tell me. It doesn’t change anything he did, though.”

“But maybe it’s a step in the right direction,” Magnus allowed.

Max laughed uneasily. “I doubt that, but we’ll see.”

Magnus twisted one of his rings with his thumb, thinking. He could attempt to placate Max more, but he was admittedly biased when it came to the Lightwood parents. He didn’t hold much hope for them to change either.

“Well,” Magnus said, moving on for Max’s sake. “When are you turning over all of this to the authorities?”

Max exhaled, and the set of his shoulders eased. “That’s already done. Izzy used her knowledge and experience with anonymous sources to feed snippets of information to Jules and his partner Emma. They’ve been building a case for weeks that isn’t dependent on any of us. Jules told her an arrest warrant has already been issued and they’ll be storming through his door as soon as she texts him that we’re gone.” The hints of a smile lifted Max’s lips. “But really, we have Simon and his World of Warcraft buddies to thank for using their combined tech nerdiness to route all of this data so none of it will track back to any of us.”

This had all been more of a team effort than Magnus had realized. Despite Magnus’ pride in his ability to find solutions for the impossible, there was no way he alone could have accomplished everything Max, Izzy, and Simon had together. They’d undertaken that massive risk for he and Alec—even when there wasn’t a _MagnusandAlec_ to speak of.

Magnus embraced Max again. “Thank you.”

Max patted his back and chuckled. “You’re welcome. Make me one of your infamous cocktails the next time I’m at your place and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.” Magnus stepped back. “Are you sure none of this can be traced back to any of you?”

Max’s patented smirk was back in full effect. “Yeah. Jules says that it’s highly unlikely that they’ll pursue any charges that have to do with you or Alec if neither of you press it—so the cops won’t even be looking at us. They have the evidence for much more severe crimes that will keep him locked up for a very long time— _if_ he and his father ever get out.”

“Sebastian will look dreadful in orange.”

Max laughed, lifting his face to the afternoon sun, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath.

Magnus was calmer now with Sebastian behind them, but he couldn’t fully relax yet. He couldn’t help but think about how this moment would’ve called for a celebration that would have involved all of them less than a week ago. That wouldn’t be the case anymore, and Magnus was okay with that. There was nothing he wanted to do more than stumble into his own bed and sleep for four hundred years.

Magnus looked to Max. “You’re going to tell Alec about all of this?”

Max shook his head, eyes meeting Magnus’. “You are. I saw that text from him when we were on the way here. You know he’ll show up at your place tonight if you say it’s okay, so talk to him.”

Magnus sighed. Apparently, there would be no celebration at all. “I don’t think he’s going to like what I have to say.”

“Either way. He needs to hear it.”

Magnus frowned and got out his phone.

 

****

 

Alec thumped his head against the hallway wall and waited for Magnus.

He’d let himself into the building and said hello to Danny—wishing every step of the way that there was something, anything, normal about him coming here—but he hadn’t used his key to get inside Magnus’ loft. Wouldn’t.

As soon as he’d gotten the reply from Magnus, this was the only place he could be. His stomach was knotted, and his back ached from how long he’d been sitting on this unforgiving floor. He ran his fingers through his hair over and over again, trying to find something—fuck— _anything_ to do with his hands so he wouldn’t keep working at that spot on his palm or grasping at that empty space on his wrist.

Alec’s throat went dry when the elevator pinged. He rubbed his palms against his jeans to wick away the sweat, but he didn’t even try to get to his feet because already his legs felt unsteady. Beyond that, there was a part of him that resonated with the thought _this is where I should be_ —sitting at Magnus’ feet and begging for forgiveness.

Magnus’ arms were stacked full of envelopes, blood red nails against a white package cradled in his elbow. He wore the same suit he’d had on the night they’d advanced to the conference finals—the last time Alec could remember really smiling. Alec counted back the days in his head with each step Magnus took closer to him. One day since the locker room. Six since he’d given the bracelet back. Twelve since he’d woken up in Magnus’ bed. Twenty since he’d first kissed him.

Magnus simply glanced over him with indifference as he pushed into his loft, leaving the front door open.

Alec got to his feet and followed, shutting them inside together.

He opened his mouth to speak, to force the words past his lips that he needed to say, but Magnus dropped his mail to the counter with a resounding thud that jolted Alec and wiped away every thought.

“You’re free of Sebastian Morgenstern.” The chilled anger of that pronouncement made Alec’s skin prickle uncomfortably.

He stumbled toward the island. “What?”

“The news will likely break tonight, but you have nothing to fear from him anymore. Max can give you all the sordid details.”

“When did this happen?”

“About an hour ago.” Magnus gripped the edge of the countertop tight enough to turn the tips of his fingers white. He spoke through clenched teeth. “I hope you didn’t sign any paperwork transferring funds to Morgenstern & Morgenstern since Sebastian is likely on his way to jail as we speak.”

_Fuck_. Magnus had found out about his fake deal directly from Sebastian, and Magnus thought….

Alec’s stomach twisted.

Magnus thought Alec had sided with Sebastian.

“Of course I didn’t sign anything!” Alec protested, his voice rising. “You know I would never really give in to him. You _know_ me.”

Magnus lifted his chin, gaze finally meeting Alec’s. “Do I?”

They were eye-to-eye, face-to-face, and the anger between them held an intensely personal bitterness that burned in Alec’s lungs as he tried to breathe. The first time they’d met had been all bravado—striking out at each other blindly in search of vulnerabilities. But this…. They now had an intimate knowledge of each other’s weaknesses and faults. They knew how to attack each other for maximum damage, and Magnus had gone for first blood.

Alec pushed past his instinct to fight back and took a deep breath. “I said I would never give in to him, and I didn’t. Jace and I just told him we’d sign on with him to buy Max and Izzy more time.”

Magnus grimaced. He shook his head, sorting through the mail instead of looking at Alec as he spoke. “You said I don’t have to worry about your parents, so I assume that means you don’t have to either. Lydia is already in the thick of the league certification process—there will be a learning curve, but one of our senior sport agents has offered to serve as her mentor. For the time being, Imogen has assigned her a portfolio of lower level rookies and prospects, but I’m willing to bet she’ll be ready to take you on as a client within the month if you so choose. And with Sebastian on his way to jail, it seems as if all of your loose ends have been definitively tied off.”

Magnus was only willing to talk business with him. But business wasn’t why Alec had come here.

“There are some threads of my life I don’t want to be tied off at all.”

Magnus closed his eyes and he crumpled the piece of paper in his hands. Alec could barely hear Magnus when he spoke again. “We could have done this together, Alec.”

There had been no way to be sure of that when he’d walked into Magnus’ office last week. Now it was too late. “I know. Magnus, I—”

“Don’t.” He held his hand up to cut Alec off. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Magnus blinked back whatever emotion he’d started to let through, his features rearranging into a mask again. His shoulders stiffened and he returned to opening envelopes, each rip tearing at Alec’s nerves. “The front office contacted me again. Every shutout you have increases the amount you can ask for as well as the likelihood of other teams attempting to woo you. So they’re accelerating your contract negotiation even more—we meet with them on Monday.”

Fine. If talking about his contract was the only way Magnus would continue speaking to him, Alec would play that game. He gritted his teeth. “I saw Victor Aldertree at the arena before game three. There’s no way he’d leave the Penguins for a backup job here.”

Magnus looked up at him again. “You’re worried they’re scouting a replacement because of your sexuality?”

Alec nodded.

Magnus dismissed the concern with a flourish of his hand. “I’m already prepared to face that they know. I won’t allow them to use that as a weapon.”

“Thank you.”

Magnus dumped a stack of paper into the recycling bin. He slid the larger package in front of himself, and worked a nail under the tape. “I’m your agent, Alec. It’s my job.”

Alec swallowed. “Until Lydia takes over.”

“We used to work well together in a professional capacity, but neither of us can continue like this.” Magnus’ frown deepened as he stared into the open box. Alec couldn’t tell if it was the contents or Alec himself that had caused that reaction. Magnus shut the box and pushed it away. “You’ll be free of me as well in a few days time.”

Sebastian, his parents, their business relationship. Alec wasn’t publicly out but every Angels’ player knew he was gay.

Everything they’d been fighting to get past was behind them now. There should’ve been no logical reason that they couldn’t be together.

And yet here they were.

He couldn’t leave things between them like this, though. His chest tightened, and he clenched and unclenched his left hand. He needed Magnus' touch to breathe. Needed Magnus in his bed and at his side. He needed to hear the name _Alexander_ coming from Magnus’ lips.

Alec stepped around the island, bringing himself closer to Magnus. He’d done this before—pushed past his boundaries and shown up at Magnus’ door because he’d needed Magnus to know he wanted more from him. He could do it again. “What if I want things to change between us?”

Magnus didn’t flinch back. His kohl-smudged eyes narrowed and he licked his bare lips.

“I said yes to that once already, and you—” Magnus set his palms on the counter and met Alec’s eyes. “You wanted me to see my own worth, to see that I was worth fighting for. Well here I am, fighting for myself. What we had, Alec…?” Magnus’ chest expanded. Alec’s heart tripped an erratic beat. “I threw myself into it without regard to the risks even when I should’ve known better—when I _did_ know better. You and I are two very different people. That we hated each other on sight wasn’t an accident, and maybe we would’ve understood that sooner if we’d started dating under normal circumstances. Or rather, we wouldn’t have started dating at all.”

“Magnus—”

Magnus’ brow furrowed, his bracelets clinking one against the other as he lifted his hand to stop Alec from saying another word. “Please let me finish. I work an unhealthy number of hours, but I’ve worked just as hard to have the stability of my home. You’re on the road for at least half the year, never knowing when you could be traded to another team and completely uprooted. Someday….” Magnus’ shoulders dropped, and his face softened. “Someday you will find someone who fits into your life seamlessly. A man who doesn’t take plots and subterfuge—or an outright battle—to earn a place at your side. I don’t fit into your life. The signs have been there all along.”

Alec shook his head. This was all wrong. _Magnus_ was wrong. “No. Izzy told me you’re mad that I broke up with you instead of facing my parents and Sebastian together. I get it. I fucked up— and I am so sorry, Magnus.”

“I told Isabelle the easiest truth, Alec. A truth that she rightly pointed out was more punishment than a valid concern.” Magnus sighed and stepped closer to Alec. “I believe that you were trying to keep me away from harm. But caring about my welfare is merely one plank in a bridge that will never span the distance between us. You made a choice that you now consider a mistake. Whether it was or not, we all do that—it’s part of being human. I don’t think it was a mistake, though. I had nothing but time to think this last week, and you did us both a favor. We’re too different for it to have ever worked out in the long run.”

“Magnus, please—”

“Alexander….”

He’d thought he wanted to hear Magnus say that again. But his full name on Magnus’ lips was too full of sorrow. It was goodbye.

“…I won’t go there again.”

The definitiveness of those words and the force behind Magnus’ voice rolled over Alec like a cold shock. He bit at his lip, set his hip against the counter so he could remain standing, and ran his hands over his beard. All he could hear was Catarina’s voice in his head— _When he’s done, he’ll tell you…._

“Okay.” Alec cleared his throat. Unshed tears burned his eyes. “I don’t think it would be— I can’t— I’ll be staying at Max’s place tonight.”

Magnus tipped his chin up. “I think that’s for the best. I’ll contact you when the time for your negotiation is set.”

Alec jammed his left hand in his pocket and strode to the door before his knees gave out.

He paused with his hand around the doorknob, sucking in shallow breaths.

He couldn’t look back, but he couldn’t leave without some kind of civility between them. “Goodnight, Magnus.”

He shut the door behind him to silence.

 

****

 

_It won’t be a good night until I get to spend it with you again._

_I’ll see you soon._

Magnus sagged onto the countertop and clasped his hands behind his neck.

He couldn’t stay in his loft.

He couldn’t bear to see any more evidence of Alec having stayed here just days ago, couldn’t deal with any possible remnants of Alec’s presence in his home. So Magnus picked up his cell and called his housecleaning service, requesting a last minute appointment. A full cleaning of the apartment that would wipe away every scent, every fingerprint, every last trace of Alec Lightwood from his home.

He was systematically erasing Alec’s presence from his life again, but unlike Pittsburgh, he wanted it to happen this time. Needed it.

Magnus locked his loft door behind him, glancing at the apartment door next to his.

But that bracelet in his drawer…. He couldn’t think about getting rid of it yet. He couldn’t touch it, and couldn’t explain why he’d held onto it at all.

He was too good at lying to himself.

Magnus forced himself to turn away from Max’s apartment. To breathe in the reality that he and Alec were really over, and not just because Alec had made that choice, but because he had too.

He hit the button on the elevator and ignored his shaking hands.

He was too scared of what would’ve happened if he’d asked Alec to stay.

 

****

 

_Night of Game Four_

_(Conference Finals tally - the Angels lead three games to none)_

 

Alec gripped his cell tighter and tried to pay attention to his coach.

“…Make them play at an uncomfortable pace and this series is yours,” Garroway boomed. “Velasquez, you’re leading us onto the ice.”

Bat’s gap-toothed grin spread across his face, the locker room filling with the crash of sticks against the floor and Emil’s whoop of joy.

“Alec? You going to put your phone away and join us on the ice?”

Alec looked up at Jace. Didn’t know what to say.

He’d waited until the last possible second to shut his cell off, hoping. Hoping that maybe Magnus had seen the note he’d slid under the door as he’d left Max’s apartment this morning.

But the silence of his phone was even more deafening than the clatter of his teammates and the raucous screams of fans roaring down the tunnel.

It was the first time Magnus hadn’t sent him a pre-game text of any kind.

Alec shut his phone off and shut down.

 

****

 

“Expecting a call?” Lydia asked as she came to stand next to him.

Magnus glanced at the blackness of his screen and pocketed his cell. “I’m always on call. You’ll get used to it.”

Lydia nodded. “Listen, the other night in the locker room—”

He couldn’t talk about it. “Do you think Jace would mind if I don’t come to any more games?”

Lydia crossed her arms, studying him. “You’d have to ask him yourself, but no, I don’t think so.”

Magnus nodded.

Then this would be his last game.

Somewhere, in the bowels of the arena, Izzy and Max were doing their ridiculous imitation of their brother. Simon was mangling the words of a classic rock song and Clary was likely perched on the jump seat of the zamboni, watching over their madness with contentment. They were all here for Alec, and they’d continue to be.

Alec had people who loved him to support him. A full life. He would be fine.

And, eventually, so would Magnus.

 

****

 

The Lightning were fighting for their survival in the playoffs. Facing the nearly unreachable task of needing to win four games in a row to move on, instead of the single one the Angels had to win to make it to the finals. It was a feat that had happened only twice in the decades-long history of the conference finals, but even that statistic gave Alec no peace.

Alec dug his skates in as he prepared for the puck to drop, knocking his mitt against the hollowness in his chest. It would be easy to go on autopilot. He’d spent almost twenty years of his life playing this game, and if he allowed his emptiness to take hold he could fall back on his training and muscle memory. He could rely on his teammates to pick up the slack.

Alec scanned the ice and a bead of cold sweat dripped down his neck. He wasn’t a ten-year-old flinching against the sting of a puck against his gear anymore, though. He wasn’t a twenty-year-old curling in to protect his heart from his ex barreling down the ice at him, either.

He was a twenty-eight-year-old man who was one of the best players to ever hold this position, and the only person he had to prove that to was himself.

His default modes of shutting down or rocketing toward anger wouldn’t sustain him.

He had to trust himself.

He had to open himself up to his pride _and_ his pain.

The fans roared as the puck dropped, and Alec allowed his grief to spread through him—each nerve lighting up with an oversensitivity that caused a physical, tangible ache. He wouldn’t let it consume him, though. He sucked in the dry, frigid air and tightened up his stance.

He yelled from the net, his voice cracking at first but then building with strength every time he filled his lungs. He moved with both the trajectory of the puck and the direction of his fear. Each slam of the puck sent shockwaves through his body and he stood his ground, absorbing the pain and letting it travel along his skin.

He couldn’t be dependent on his teammates, his superstitions, his siblings, or Magnus to hold him together. So he refused to shut down.

He pushed nothing away except that three-inch black disc.

He accepted the loss of his parents and the loss of Magnus.

He embraced Jace’s sarcastic commentary, and Garroway’s barked orders from the bench. He pushed himself farther outside the crease despite his fear and was rewarded with the slaps of sticks against his pads.

Each minute that passed brought him closer to a goal he’d been envisioning for decades. Sixty minutes of play twenty years in the making, and Alec breathed in the inevitability of this moment.

He stood tall as Hildreth flicked the puck into the Lightning’s empty net for the Angels’ fourth goal with only seconds left in the third.

Alec’s lips curled into a smile. The zero on the scoreboard under the Lightning’s name reflected back years of hard work.

The vibration of the final buzzer surged through his bones and Alec took off to meet his teammates at center ice.

He’d sacrificed and lost, but he’d gained so much more.

This win….

This was only the beginning.

 

****

 

Magnus got to his feet, tears gathering in his eyes as the sound of the final buzzer was drowned out by twenty-thousand voices.

Alec had done it. He’d earned yet another shutout and the New York City Blazing Angels were heading to the league championship series.

Imogen leaned over, raising her voice to be heard over the rapturous chaos. “I’ve arranged for a celebration for the entire team at IE’s headquarters tonight. Susanna refused to let anyone know about it until their win was secured.”

On the rink, the Angels and Lightning lined up, sweeping past each other to congratulate one another on a series well-played. The conference finals trophy was rolled onto the ice and every Angels player kept their distance—yet another tradition that had been passed down over multiple generations of players.

Imogen shook her head at the sight and scoffed. “Superstitions.”

Magnus had been intently focused on protecting all of Alec’s rituals, and in the end none of them had mattered. He hadn’t texted Alec before the game. Alec hadn’t spent the night at his loft…. And the Angels had still won.

Hours, possibly days, of Alec’s life had been devoted to superstitions. Years of hiding who he really was. He’d deconstructed it all. And come out more successful.

Magnus’ loft had never been the key. Nor himself.

In the wake of the anguish he’d seen on Alec’s face last night, Alec had rebuilt himself in a new way.

When the finals started in a week’s time, Magnus would be a mere blip of inconvenience on Alec’s ascent to the hockey hall of fame.

But for the moment he gave himself permission to imagine what this moment would have been like in the zamboni room. Crashing into Alec’s arms with unabashed joy. Of kissing Alec in public and dealing with the resulting upheaval in their lives. Experiencing the judgment that would come his way just because of who he loved. Maybe he would’ve been strong enough to bear it. Maybe not. He’d never know now.

He took a deep breath and let that fantasy go.

“I’ll use the time wisely at the party to begin recruiting more players to IE,” he finally replied to Imogen.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Magnus squared his shoulders and set his sights on what came next.

 

****

 

Alec stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor of IE’s headquarters and took a sip from his beer. The boisterous celebration of his teammates, the music pumping from speakers set throughout the room, and the flashing red, gold, and blue lights made the room feel more like a club than an office building, but Alec couldn’t forget where he was.

It had been exactly one week since he’d walked out of this building into a life without Magnus. They’d both made their choices, and even though they’d ended when he’d thought there was a future, maybe Magnus had been right—maybe Alec breaking up with him hadn’t been a mistake.

Alec had needed to discover how to rely on others yet still stand on his own.

Next to him, Simon tapped at the glass window. “How hard is it being here?”

Being with his teammates and celebrating was good. Having Magnus across the room and not even sparing a glance in his direction…. Alec was trying to be okay with it. Just like in the game, if he was going to move on, he had to find a way to live with his pain instead of burying it so deep.

Alec exhaled. “I’m fine.”

“We can skip out whenever you want.”

Alec looked down at Simon. “No, really, Si. I’m okay.”

Simon quirked an eyebrow.

“Maybe not _okay_ ,” Alec allowed, “but okay.”

“Okay.”

Alec smiled sadly, then took another sip of his beer. “You know, I remember you telling me the day I met Magnus that you understood why Magnus and I didn’t like each other. That we were too different.”

Simon nodded. “Fundamentally opposable elements, I remember too.”

“Guess you were right. Since it didn’t work out in the long run.”

“Long run, huh?”

Alec shrugged. “It feels like I’ve lived an entire lifetime in these last two months.”

Simon turned toward him, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You know…. The whole opposable elements thing? It usually is a disaster, but those are only some of the stories, Alec—not all of them.”

Alec narrowed his eyes. “I don’t follow.”

“Well, it’s like this. Comic books are worlds of extremes, right? Modern day fairy tales with not-so-subtle lessons. There’s a place in fiction for the high drama when two diametrically-opposed people face off with each other and fight to the death, but….” Simon shifted on his feet and crossed his arms. “It’s not a comic book, but take Princess Leia and Han Solo. I mean, you couldn’t get two people who are more different, right?”

Alec chuckled. “I guess.”

“The more interesting stories are ones like theirs. Where they realize that their…bumps and imperfections fit together in a unique pattern that makes them both stronger. That they match in a way no other two people will. It’s them fighting for each other and holding on.”

Alec eyed Simon. “Weren’t they broken up in the last movie?”

“Well, yeah. But it was circumstances that drove them apart, not that they’d stopped loving each other.”

Alec swallowed hard. He loved Magnus, was _in_ love with him. But Magnus…. Magnus seemed to be having no trouble letting Alec go. “It’s different with Magnus and me. I mean, I don’t think—” Alec sighed. “I chose to push him away, then he chose to walk away from me.”

Simon glanced over Alec’s shoulder. “Are you, um…. You sure about that?”

Alec scoffed. “Yeah.”

“Strange. Since he’s walking over here right now.”

Alec’s head snapped up as Magnus glided across the room towards them with Clary at his side. He clenched his beer bottle tighter.

Magnus tipped his head at Simon. “Sergei. Good to see you.”

Simon smiled. “Good to see you too, Magnus.”

Magnus’ cool gaze slid Alec’s way, eyes meeting his without hesitation. “Alec, our meeting time has been set for one pm at the arena on Monday. I put together a list of the contract parameters I’m going for in your negotiation. Clary can take you down to my office if you have a moment to review them.”

Alec searched Magnus’ face. He couldn’t tell whether Magnus had read the letter he’d left for him or not. He didn’t know if what he’d said mattered anyway—other than, for once, he’d let it all out instead of holding it in.

“Okay.”

Without another word, Magnus turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Clary brushed a hand down his arm. “Come on, Alec. I’ll take you down.”

Clary grabbed two bottles of water as they passed by the bar, handing one over to Alec, then led him down to Magnus’ office.

She pushed through the door and went directly to the desk, plopping into Magnus’ seat and rifling through a stack of papers. Alec stood in the doorway and cracked open his bottle of water, gulping it down to clear his head. He’d only been inside Magnus’ office the one time last week and he hadn’t prepared himself for the possibility that he would be in this exact room tonight.

“I’ll have this ready in second,” Clary said without looking up.

Her voice jolted Alec into movement. He stepped inside, looking around. But he was standing in almost the exact spot as last week and he couldn’t stop the memories of the hurt on Magnus’ face from cycling through his brain in an endless loop. Alec downed more water and began to pace.

He passed by the antique buffet with glasses and crystal decanters, then by the bookshelf, scanning the titles until the sight of a red cover had him stumbling to a dead stop.

Tarasov’s _Road to Olympus_.

Alec gripped the water bottle tightly, the plastic crinkling under his fingers. Maybe it hadn’t been in the box of gifts Magnus had given back to him, because it hadn’t been readily available when Magnus had packed everything else up. It was the only reason that made sense.

Alec ripped his gaze away from the book and kept pacing.

“Okay, I’ve got all the pages in order.”

Alec tossed his empty bottle in the trashcan—wincing as the echo of metal on metal when Magnus had dumped the feather bracelet in there clattered in his memory.

This was about his contract. Nothing else. He had to let go.

He gathered his strength and stood next to Clary, leaning over the desk to read the document.

Alec pushed every other thought away and focused on the terms of his negotiation, flipping through the pages. “This all looks good, but I want to make sure he has some kind of plan on how to address the possibility I may need surgery on my knee.”

“I think he already does, but I’ll make a note of it.”

Clary opened the top desk drawer seeking a pen and Alec saw a glint of silver.

Alec’s breath caught and he laid his hand on hers, stilling her.

“He didn’t throw it away.”

Clary pushed the drawer shut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was in there.”

Alec’s heartbeat kicked up. “Did Magnus stay at his place last night?”

“Alec—”

“I know you’ve taken his side on this,” Alec cut in. He locked eyes with her. “But please, Clary, this is important.”

Clary shook her head. “He spent the night at Catarina’s apartment, then went straight to the game.”

Alec slowly stood up.

Magnus didn’t even know Alec had left a letter for him.

Alec still had his set of keys and if he wanted he could take it back.

But the Tarasov book on Magnus’ shelf and that bracelet in his drawer….

Catarina’s voice echoed in his ears— _Magnus says very little with words._

Maybe Alec wasn’t the only one still holding on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's still with me? raise your hand and let's take a head count. cause no dying is allowed!
> 
> or, the usual option is cool too--come yell at me on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alec specifies his terms. magnus weighs the risks. and there’s a contract negotiation in there somewhere too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck. well, we’re back to counting days of another hiatus. day 17 of the wasteland before we get to 2b. at least we get to spend it together, right?
> 
> i’ve been asked a few times about how much of itsb is planned out ahead of time. the answer to that is _everything_ lol. there’s a reason that some chapters have ended up as massive as they are—because when i completed the full outline in may 2016, i knew how each chapter needed to start and how it needed to end in terms of plot/character/emotional arc, it’s just that getting from point A to point B sometimes took a hell of a lot more words than i thought it would. oops?
> 
> on that note, this chapter is ~~a still waaayyyy too long~~ 17k words.
> 
> on another note that’s going to influence total fic word count down the line, i had originally planned for 4 short stories that would follow the main 25 chapter story arc. there are now 6 short stories that span from a month after the fic “ends” to years into the future. i hope you’re okay with that.
> 
> to everyone live tweeting with #itsb, tagging me/sending me asks on tumblr, commenting here and/or hitting the kudos button, i am a dandelion and you are my sun. you bless me with warmth and i take over your entire fucking lawn. at least it’s kinda pretty?
> 
> character note for this chapter: we’ve had an aromantic-asexual (aro-ace) character in this fic all along, but we haven’t heard much from him yet. that changes in this chapter and moving forward. how i’ve approached his characterization in regards to sex-positive/sex-neutral/sex-averse is my own headcanon that i developed through conversations with aro and ace friends. your headcanon may be different than mine for him, and that’s cool too. for anyone who wants to read more about asexuality, [the asexuality visibility and education network](http://www.asexuality.org/en/) is a great resource.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: ptsd-like symptoms

Alec held his hand up as he lay in bed, keyring circled around his finger and silver keys dangling against his palm. Three sets of keys for three different places—his apartment, the arena, and Magnus’ loft. One place he didn’t want to be, and two others where he wasn’t allowed to go.

His keys were as useless as the entire unfilled day he had ahead of him.

Garroway had already promised there would be consequences if Alec showed up at the arena instead of taking the day off. Even Jace was complying, although his texts—sent at irregular intervals throughout the night in either insomnia-induced or alcohol-fueled bursts—were still all hockey related. There were screenshots of statistics about the western conference finals—the Nashville Predators versus the Dallas Stars. Videos of plays he wanted Alec to analyze. Links to articles about how the Angels’ had the advantage no matter which team won.

Alec knew that wasn’t the truth—at least not for him.

He ran his fingers through his hair, again, yanking on the knots that had started to form as he attempted to keep his hands from digging at his palm or circling his bare wrist. His sheets and duvet were long gone, bounced to the end of his bed by his inability to simply _rest_. He had at least a week before he took to the ice for the finals, but it felt like he wasn’t going to make it through the hour, let alone a whole day, without putting on his pads or lacing up his skates.

He didn’t know what, if anything, he should be doing. And the need to _act_ ate at him.

Magnus could have gone back to his loft last night, or he could still be at Catarina’s. There was no way to even get subtle intel about where Magnus had spent the night since Max, Simon, and Izzy had all crashed at Alec’s place instead of heading home.

He tossed his keys on his nightstand and picked up his cell. While he had to wait on Magnus for a response to his letter, if Magnus even responded at all, there was one relationship he had the power to set right this morning.

He opened up his texts and sent a message off to Clary— _I want to apologize for saying that you had taken Magnus’ side. That was out of line. I’m glad he has you as a friend_

Alec glanced at the time and swore under his breath, quickly typing out another text _—Fuck. It’s early. I hope I didn’t wake you up_

Alec scratched at his beard and waited for a response. Clary always had her phone near her because she was just as on-call as Magnus was. Seconds later a reply pinged through.

_No problem, I was up before the sunrise. Thank you for saying that but it’s ok. I’ve learned how to translate grumpy Alec. No harm done_

Alec scoffed at the kissing face emoji at the end of the text. _Why are you up this early?_

_I woke up out of a dead sleep with an idea for your mask. I’m actually drawing_

Within seconds a picture popped through—an arching edge of a wing in bold shades of blue.

“Holy shit.”

He stilled and clicked the picture to expand it to full size, framing it in the black rectangle of his cell case. His fingers gripped the case tightly, the dichotomy between the image on the screen and the view outside that silicone frame coming into stark relief. The brilliant shades of blue were the only color in his view. A crisp white duvet hung off the end of his bed with dark gray sheets twisted over the top. His skin was still pale from spending almost the entire spring indoors, appearing even more washed out because of the black of his boxer briefs. He was surrounded by white walls and a white ceiling—every room of his apartment painted the same industrial shade that the builder had left as a blank canvas, but Alec had never filled in.

 _Fuck_.

Had he always been so…bland?

Alec sighed. Or maybe he just missed the vibrancy Magnus had brought to his life.

Alec tapped back to his thread with Clary and sent another text. _You free today? I could come over to talk about it_

There was a pause, then, _Lydia is at my place but we’re just hanging out. Come on over_

Alec furrowed his brow. Lydia was at her place? When had that become a thing? His first instinct was to call Jace and see if he wanted to grab breakfast so Alec could finally uncover which one of them was dating his best friend, but he was too emotionally drained to handle prying information out of Jace.

His only other option for the morning was to drag himself out of bed and spend it with his siblings and Simon assessing his every word for how he was _really_ doing.

_I’ll be over in an hour_

He locked his screen, tossing it on the nightstand and forced himself out of bed to get cleaned up.

His body ached from the game and the stress of the party afterward—shoulders tight and knee twinging from barely moving after he’d fallen into bed.

He shucked his briefs and pulled open the shower door, only to stop cold when his gaze landed on the shelf and the bar of soap Magnus had given him as an innuendo.

Alec clenched his jaw, trying to force back the ridiculous tears that blurred his vision. “You are _not_ fucking crying over soap.”

It was the same flash of anger he’d had at the sound of Clary crying on the other end of the line when she’d called to tell him about Hodge. He couldn’t count the number of times over the last two months that he’d buried his visceral reactions behind irritation and a snide remark, just like he had that day. It didn’t matter how much he’d tried to be the stoic soldier his mother had always wanted him to be, though.

He’d cried more in the last month than he had in his entire lifetime.

“Okay, so you _are_ crying over soap.” He took a deep breath and let the tears fill his eyes. “Maybe you finally are a man, Lightwood.”

Alec chuckled softly and got in the shower.

 

****

 

Magnus sipped at his mimosa, the bubbly warmth chasing away the early morning chill from his bones.

He’d left the Angels’ celebration party at IE last night with the intent to get drunk and avoid all possibilities of waking up in his own bed. Ending up in the arms of a nameless, willing partner had been exactly what he’d done in the past. But as he’d stood at the doors to one of his favorite nightclubs—the red velvet rope unhooked, yet unable to make his feet move—he’d known that was no longer an easy, or right, choice.

Instead of losing himself in bass-heavy music and a stranger’s body against his, he’d knocked on Raphael’s door and found escape at the side of his old friend. His situation hadn’t seemed as bleak in the low lights strung through Raphael’s penthouse terrace. His doubt had faded into the background under the golden glow of the outdoor heater. And he’d buried his regret in the haze of too many drinks, bantering away the hours as nighttime slipped into morning.

But now, steam rose from rooftops as the sun began to rise—hot and orange and cut into slivers by an urban horizon. It was Saturday again, somehow, and today there had to be a reset. Today, he had to go home.

But not quite yet.

In the chair next to him, Raphael plucked at the strings of his guitar. “How long exactly?”

Magnus pulled his gaze away from the sunrise and to Raphael. The top buttons of Raphael’s dress shirt were undone, his suit coat inexplicably immaculate for the hours they’d been sitting on this rooftop. His hands—calloused from strings just as much as his hockey stick—drew out long, woeful chords.

“How long what?”

“How long were you and Alec involved with each other, exactly?”

“About two months, but things between us didn’t get…physical until much more recently.”

Raphael smirked at that. “Pittsburgh?”

Magnus downed his mimosa, setting his empty flute on the table between he and Raphael. He tugged the blanket around his shoulders tighter. “Was it that obvious?”

“There was glitter in his beard at practice, _papá_. You always complain about how hard that stuff is to wash off.”

“That’s why I just apply more,” he deflected.

Raphael scoffed.

“Is that when you figured it out?”

Raphael shook his head. “After the seventh game against the Devils.”

Magnus swallowed thickly, in need of just one more sip of orange juice and champagne to clear his throat. He and Alec had been sure they wanted to be together then, willingly cataloging the risks of a relationship, and completely unaware of the hell they were walking into. “We hadn’t even kissed yet.”

“You were wearing his sweatshirt.”

Magnus lips crooked into a sad smile. “Fair enough.”

“You and he….” Raphael leaned his guitar against the table and lay back on the chair, closing his eyes to the sun. “You want it to be over?”

Magnus wasn’t drunk anymore. There was merely a tired laziness flowing through his veins. The lack of sleep and his alcohol-dulled inhibitions tilted him just enough to allow the truth to slip through. “No. I don’t think so.”

“But?”

“But it’s complicated.”

“Fair enough.”

Magnus hummed thoughtfully.

There was a reason he’d sought out Raphael over his other friends. Attraction, sex, and love intertwined irrevocably in Magnus’ brain, but for Raphael there was no desire for romantic entanglements. No need for sex, although he wasn’t averse to it on occasion. His view of the world was uncomplicated in a way that Magnus had needed last night.

“Ragnor told me I’d fall in love with him.”

“Ragnor has many opinions. We shouldn’t listen to them all.”

Magnus had to laugh at that. “You’re just bitter because he didn’t tell you about me and Alec.”

“And neither did you.”

“I had my reasons.”

“None of which involved you remaining a notorious, international man of mystery, I’m sure.”

“Says the man who insisted that Alec couldn’t know that you and I are acquainted with each other, let alone that you live upstairs from me.”

“And I thank you for respecting my privacy”—Raphael lazily rolled his head in Magnus’ direction—“for once.”

“Maintaining privacy is the hallmark of a good agent. Of which I am, if you had any doubt.”

Raphael toyed with the cross pendant resting on his chest. “Speaking of, I spoke with Lydia Branwell at the party last night. I have a year left with my current agency. We’ll see how she does with Lightwood.”

“You’d sign with her and not with me?” Magnus clutched his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded, Raphael.”

“I get the feeling you won’t be taking on any more athletes in the future.”

“Never say never. I’m done playing the game of tempting the fates.”

“Saying that is tempting fate.” Raphael smirked. “I have to give you props. Regardless of your supposed professional boundaries, you could out-gossip my abuela. I can’t believe you kept your relationship with Alec secret as long as you did.”

“You would know about secret relationships, Santiago.”

Raphael narrowed his eyes.

Magnus tipped his chin up, pointedly staring at the cap Ragnor had taken from him last week, now settled on Raphael’s head. “Nice beanie.”

A languorous smile spread across Raphael’s face as he tugged at the edges of the knit cap. “I couldn’t remember where I’d left it.”

“So I suppose that means you and Ragnor finally settled your argument over Banksy’s contribution to the street art movement?”

“Ragnor is a fool.”

To anyone else, Raphael’s assessment of Ragnor would sound dismissive, but Magnus knew there was a deep, life-long friendship between them—with intermittent orgasms—and nothing lacking or missing. They were content as they were. Despite their frequent arguments over food, politics, religion, or whether Banksy was an artist or an agent provocateur, Raphael loved Ragnor dearly as a friend, and Ragnor, intent on protecting his solitude, was satisfied with someone he could love back from a comfortable distance. Magnus could picture them purchasing brownstones next to each other in their retirement and sitting on a worn stoop together, chastising the neighborhood children for being boisterous and too damn child-like.

“He told me I didn’t look like the type to wear one,” Magnus added. “Quite frankly, neither do you.”

“It’s Tom Ford.” Raphael lifted his chin, indignant. “And cashmere.”

Magnus rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, sending a text to Cat— _It’s time I took charge of my kingdom again. Can you bring the Chairman by before your shift?_

Despite the early hour, Cat’s answer was immediate. _Of course_

 _You are a gift from the heavens,_ he typed back. _The placidness of aqua Caribbean waters, the white of summer swept clouds, and the healing magic of a day spent lounging on the beach_

_You’re drunk, Magnus. Go home_

Magnus smiled. _I’m closer to home than I was before_

_I’ll see you at your loft around noon. Tell Raphael hi from me_

He would do no such thing, and Cat knew that.

Magnus clicked his screen dark and pushed out of the chair. “Well, I should probably attempt some sleep. You should too.”

“Coach gave us the day off. And I’m craving some tamales.”

“Then enjoy your day off if I don’t see you when I wake up.” Magnus clapped a hand to Raphael’s shoulder. “In the meantime, try not to wake me or Alec’s brother with your thumping around the kitchen. Thank you for the bourbon, the whiskey, the mimosas, as well as the use of your guest room for a few hours.”

Raphael looked up at him. “And the company?”

“That is debatable.”

Raphael chuckled. “ _Buenas noches_ , Magnus.”

 

****

 

Alec swiped the beard comb through his untrimmed facial hair, then fit his baseball cap over his forehead, barely sparing a glance at himself before he opened the door leading out to the main living area.

“Morning,” he mumbled as he made his way into the kitchen.

Izzy set her iPad aside and took a quick survey of Alec’s outfit—dark gray sweatpants, and a black sweater with holes for his thumbs to poke through. Her eyes skimmed up to the less purposeful holes around the neckline of the sweater, worn through from years of tugging at the soft material and not paying attention which wash cycle he put it in.

She smiled. “Morning, Alec.”

Alec swiped a mug out of the cupboard, and looked over his shoulder at Izzy while he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Where are Max and Simon?”

“They ran out to pick up breakfast. Your refrigerator is depressingly empty for a man who’s supposed to eat thousands of calories a day.”

Alec rolled his eyes and dropped into the seat next to her. “I haven’t had much time to do anything besides stress out and play hockey lately.”

“Well, now you do.” She spooned sugar into Alec’s cup then slid her iPad across the table. “Take a look.”

Alec gulped down his coffee and scanned over the headline. The lead story was a snap of Sebastian Morgenstern doing the perp-walk into the county jail, then below that a picture of Hodge Starkweather that made Alec’s stomach churn.

Alec pushed the iPad back to Izzy. “Max told me that dad is the one who talked to Hodge and convinced him to testify against Valentine. I’m not sure how I feel about all of…that.”

“Me too.”

“Have you talked to dad?”

Izzy shook her head. “I don’t plan on it either. I’m glad he did it, but one instance of him standing up to mom and doing what’s right doesn’t erase all the hurt he’s caused. Quite honestly, I’m guessing he did it to make sure he wouldn’t be dragged into the trial.”

“Probably.”

Izzy flipped the case over her iPad and faced Alec. “Do you know if Magnus read the note you left for him?”

“No idea.”

Alec slid forward in the chair and rested his head against the back of it.

Izzy squeezed his hand. “What can I do for you?”

“You’ve already helped me more than I can ever repay you,” Alec answered honestly. “Whatever happens next, if anything, will be up to Magnus….”

“That note will get through to him. You’ll see.”

Alec grunted his reply. Getting through implied that Magnus hadn’t fortified his walls enough to keep Alec completely out. The Tarasov book and bracelet were the only indications there was still a chance. A small one at that.

He stood and kissed his sister on the cheek. “I’m going to head out now.”

“Not going to wait for breakfast?”

Alec clicked through his contacts and sent a text. There was no way he was taking his car to Clary’s place. “No thanks. I gotta get out of this apartment.”

“On a run?”

“To Clary’s.”

Izzy raised a curious eyebrow.

“We’re going to work on the design for my new mask together,” Alec explained. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be, so don’t feel like you need to hang around. But you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

“See you later, _mi hermano_.”

Alec snatched a puck off the table in the entryway, then glanced at the blackboard next to the door as he strode into the hallway. Alec cracked his neck and kept moving. When he got home he’d wipe it clean and start up the grocery list he’d been neglecting for weeks now. The elevator was blessedly empty, giving Alec space to breathe, and when he pushed through the lobby doors a cab sat at the curb, engine idling.

Alec knocked on the glass to get the cabbie’s attention, then slid into the backseat. “Good morning, Ibrahim.”

Ibrahim smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “Morning, Mr. Lightwood.”

“Ibrahim, it’s Alec.”

“I know, I know. Is your destination the address you texted me?” Alec nodded and Ibrahim pulled the cab into traffic, heading for the Brooklyn Bridge. “Congratulations on the win. Who are you hoping to play in the finals?”

“Definitely Dallas. But that’s an answer you won’t hear me giving in the press.”

Ibrahim chuckled, then let a quiet settle between them.

Alec stared out the window at the city passing by, then the river—calm and reflecting the morning summer sun. They passed into Brooklyn, angling away from the turn-off Alec would’ve taken for Magnus’ apartment, past the gentrified neighborhoods, and into a section of Bedford-Stuyvesant that Clary loved and refused to leave.

“Before I forget….” Alec pulled the black disc out of his pocket and held it up for Ibrahim to see. “Jace autographed a puck for your wife from the game you were at.”

“Thank you, my friend. She’ll be over the moon.”

“Let me know if you want tickets to one of our home games in the finals. I promise not to be ejected from any of those.”

“Excellent.” Ibrahim pulled up in front of Clary’s apartment. “Will you need a ride back into the city?”

“I’ll text you if I do and see if you’re anywhere around.” Alec slipped the puck through the plastic divider along with his fare and a generous tip. “Have a good day, okay?”

Ibrahim nodded and Alec pulled his baseball hat on tighter as he mounted the steps to Clary’s apartment. The lock on the front door had been broken months ago, so Alec just hit the intercom button for Clary’s place like usual to give her a warning he was heading up.

By the time Alec had made it up all four flights of stairs, Clary was standing in the hallway waiting for him.

“I really am sorry about what I said last night.”

Clary smiled. “I know you are. Let’s just hug it out.”

Alec scoffed but allowed Clary to weave her arms around him. She held tight for longer than usual and Alec looked down at her, realizing Clary was…sniffing him?

Alec stood back, giving an exaggerated sigh _and_ rolling his eyes for good measure. “I smell like Magnus, I know.”

Clary lifted an eyebrow.

“It’s the soap he got me. It’s the, uh…the same one he uses.”

Clary smirked and held the door open. “Come on in.”

Alec stepped inside the tiny apartment, catching the sound of running water coming from the shower in the bathroom. “Lydia knows I’m here?”

“You won’t have to see any naked girl parts, don’t worry.”

Alec chuckled, a blush crawling up his cheeks. “It’s not like they’d do anything for me anyway. Even if I wasn’t gay, she and I have been friends for too long.”

Clary bolted the door and faced him. “Heads up on that whole ‘friend’ thing…. She’s not very happy with you or Jace right now.”

Alec furrowed his brow, then crossed his arms as he pieced together what she was talking about. “Shit. The fake giving-in-to-Sebastian thing?”

“Yeah, Alec. The Sebastian _thing_. Just be prepared.”

“You know neither of us would really ever—”

“I know.”

“Really. We’d never—”

“I know, Alec.” Clary patted his arm. “Sit down and I’ll grab my sketchpad.”

Alec unlocked his cell and opened his pictures. He had to scroll through too many of him and Magnus—too many he still refused to delete off his phone even though they were saved on the cloud—until he landed on the one he was looking for. He tipped the phone toward her when she plopped down on the threadbare couch next to him. “I can’t get this image out of my head. But I can’t envision how it would translate into 3D.”

“That’s beautiful. Where’s it—” Clary leaned over and enlarged the pic, focusing on the text. “Oh.”

“You know it?”

“Yeah. But the cover I have is different.”

Alec narrowed his eyes. “You have a copy of _The Charioteer_?”

Clary shrugged. “It’s a classic.”

“A gay lit classic.”

“Written by a woman, who was a lesbian. It’s not just for gay dudes…dude.”

Alec chuckled. “Fair point. That pic you sent over this morning? It fits with this, right?”

“It actually works really well with that. I could integrate the two and add in a shield maybe? Oh! And an illusion of movement…. What would you think of sticking with shades of blue, lines of black and white, and just pops of red and gold? That way it will work with both your home and away uniforms.”

Alec stared at her. Blinked.

Clary laughed. “Let me sketch out something with colored pencils so you can get a rough idea.”

“Great.”

Lydia emerged from the bathroom in yoga pants and a tank top, toweling off her hair and glaring at Alec. “Lightwood.”

Alec held up his hands. “Look, Lydia—”

“I can’t believe that you and Jace made that call to Sebastian!”

“We didn’t sign anything!” he protested.

“It was Jace’s idea wasn’t it?” Lydia sank into the chair across from him, tucking her legs under her. “All of the bad ideas are his.”

“We made it together.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? Like how you and Magnus should’ve been making decisions?”

Alec stammered. The question was delivered with a bluntness that Alec was used to, but the heat behind it surprised him.

“Lydia,” Clary warned, “we talked about this. Give the guy a break. He already knows.”

Lydia shook her head and stormed off, swiping a mug off the table then slamming the door to the bedroom behind her.

Alec watched that all unfold with his mouth open, then faced Clary.

“Give her a minute. She hasn’t had enough coffee yet.”

Alec had known Lydia way longer than Clary had, but apparently not _well_ enough to learn quirks like that. “You know what that was about?”

“That’s definitely a question for her, not for me.”

Alec sighed. Maybe meeting Jace for breakfast would’ve been easier. “You and Lydia? You’ve gotten close?”

“It’s been good. I just have to make sure the coffee pot is always full.”

Alec nodded, accepting that as a tip for when Lydia took over as his agent, and changed the subject. He leaned forward to look at the stack of sketchbooks on the coffee table. “Are all of these yours?”

Clary smiled. “Yeah. Lydia’s been rifling through my old stuff all morning.”

“May I?” Clary nodded without looking up from the page. Alec scooped up one of the books and started flipping through it, stopping cold when he came across a drawing Clary had done of he and Magnus. It looked like the night of the Gallant event—Alec with his forearms resting on the table, looking up at Magnus, a small smile on both their lips. A private moment in the middle of a faceless crowd in motion around them. He hadn’t realized Clary had been watching. He’d been so drawn into Magnus’ presence in that moment that there hadn’t been anyone in that room besides the two of them.

He set that book down with shaking hands and pushed through the stack for covers that were more worn. Sketchbooks that would be older, and less likely to contain anything that had to do with he and Magnus. He flipped through the pages, startling when a familiar face stared back at him.

“Is this Coach Garroway?”

Clary nodded. She set down her pencil and looked him in the eye. “My mom and Luke used to date.”

“No shit.”

“No shit. He was always on the road or in practice and he took time out for us when he could. You know how it is.” Alec nodded and Clary took the book from him, thumbing through the pages to a section of drawing after drawing of Luke and Jocelyn. “When he was there, his attention was always one hundred percent focused on us. Then he and my mom got into some huge fight the night of my eighteenth birthday, and the next day Luke was traded to a minor league team in Chicago and he just…left. Didn’t say goodbye.” Clary lifted her eyes to him. “Calling you to tell you about Hodge was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do because when I couldn’t get through to you on your cell, I had to talk to him.”

“I just thought you were being typical Clary—annoying me like usual,” he teased, hoping to wipe away even a fraction of the hurt on her face.

Clary just smiled sadly. “When have you ever known me to cry like that?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know if he realized it was me at first. I was probably crying too hard for him to recognize my voice, or he just decided to let it go…. I was a little emotional that day.”

“Me too,” Alec admitted. “But I let it out by snapping at you.”

Clary knocked her shoulder against his. “Two kinds of people, right?”

“Luke….” Alec glanced at the drawing of the smiling man. Alec had never seen that kind of smile on his coach’s face, but the man he knew wasn’t cold either. Tough, but not cold. “Luke has always been so solid for me. I can’t imagine him just abandoning anyone he cared about.”

Clary shrugged and shut the book, setting it to side. “People change.”

Alec shook his head, a deep sadness gripping him. “Or maybe, you never really know all of who they are unless they allow you to.”

“Maybe.” Clary picked up her pencils and went back to work on her design. Alec didn’t realize he was staring at her—not really seeing her at all as he tried to piece together everything she’d told him—until she peeked at him and laughed. She shook her head fondly. “You can ask me more about it if you want to.”

Alec dug his thumb into his palm, then crossed his arms when he realized what he was doing. “So your mom…. She was at Magnus’ place for one game, right? Did he know about the two of them?”

“Nope. But it wasn’t like my mom had to fake it, really. That night was the first full hockey game she’d ever watched. I don’t know if she saw it as her competition or if it just never interested her.”

“You go to games, though.”

The door to the bedroom opened and Lydia emerged, placing a hand on Alec’s shoulder as she passed by and smiling at Clary, then settling again into the chair across from them. “Sorry about that. It’s been an emotional few days.”

Alec chuckled uneasily. “Tell me about it. You, uh…. Do we need to talk?”

“Another time.” Lydia tipped her chin up. “From what I could catch through the thin walls, Clary was telling you about her mom and Coach Garroway?”

Clary nodded. “I was just going to say…. I go to games because I want to support you, Alec.”

Her love of the zamboni room made a whole hell of a lot more sense now. “But you stay with Simon because then you don’t have to see him through the entire game.”

“Yeah. Luke chose hockey over us and I can’t forgive him for that.”

“I’m sorry, Clary.”

Clary shrugged. “It’s not like you had anything to do with it.”

“Yeah. But me and Magnus….” Alec scratched at his beard and sunk into the cushions. “Magnus said he knew I was trying to protect him. But I still don’t know if there’s a part of him that thinks I chose hockey over him.”

“Can you really blame him for not being sure at the time? All those secrets, and hiding, and super spy stuff…. Magnus agreed to all of it, but it’s not like any of us really had a choice. Everyone’s lives were kind of taken over by what was happening with you.”

“Shit. I know. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. It’s what family does. And Magnus understands why you thought breaking up with him was the only way to keep him safe, believe me. No one has ever placed Magnus first. Then you did, and—”

“I _didn’t_.”

“You did, Alec. In the biggest way possible.” Clary sighed and rested her hand on the edge of the page. “I see the complexities on both sides, but at the heart of your actions…. You put Magnus above everything else in your life. You stationed yourself between him and your parents. You risked Jace, Max, and Izzy’s anger, plus the stability of your own game to make sure he was protected.”

Alec shook his head adamantly. “But I fucked it up.”

“You’re _Alec Lightwood_. You overthink everything and yet don’t hesitate to put yourself in danger for the people you love.”

Alec tucked his thumbs into the holes in his sweater and crossed his arms again. He glanced at Lydia. “And you? What do you think?”

She shrugged. “I think you fucked it up. But Clary’s right, you did it in grand Alec style.”

Alec glared at her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It made _me_ feel better.”

Alec rolled his eyes.

Lydia sighed and leaned forward. “What are you going to do about him, Alec?”

It would be easy for him to get angry. To feel as if he’d put everything he could into pushing this relationship forward and that Magnus _owed_ him an answer. But that wasn’t anywhere close to the truth.

Magnus had put his career at risk. He’d stepped back into the closet. He hadn’t even turned away when Alec had broken up with him and asked Magnus to continue on as his agent.

The only time Magnus had told him ‘no’ was the night he’d said he wouldn’t give their relationship another try. That he had to fight for himself for once. And Alec couldn’t even fault him for that decision, because it was exactly what Alec hoped he would be able to do someday.

“Nothing,” Alec answered. “I’ve pushed hard enough. I don’t want to guilt him into something he doesn’t want. He knows how I feel.”

“All of it?”

Alec shook his head. “I left him a note, but…. There are some things that should be said face to face, not read on paper.”

Lydia pursed her lips as if she was holding in a response, then sipped at her coffee and didn’t say anything else.

She looked so serene now. Maybe _he_ hadn’t had enough caffeine yet today either.

“You have more coffee, Clary?”

“Help yourself,” Clary answered without looking up, already sucked back into the movement of pencils over paper.

Alec took his time in the minuscule kitchen, giving Clary space to work without him hovering next to her on the tiny couch. He leaned against the counter to avoid bumping his head on the lights that were hung too low, and circled his hands around the cracked mug soaking in the warmth. Beyond the wall that divided the galley kitchen from the living room, Alec heard Lydia laugh—a full-blown burst of surprised laughter—and Alec had to smile. Having Lydia as his agent was going to be good.

“What do you think about something like this?” Clary called out.

Alec set his coffee aside and strode into the living room, leaning over the back of the couch. His eyes widened as he took in the design. She’d melded their two ideas in a way he would’ve never been able to visualize. “Wow. It’s…. It’s beautiful, Clary. Thank you.”

She peered up at him over her shoulder. “You know that if we go with this, there’s a chance of someone seeing it and tying it back to the source before you come out?”

Alec considered that. He could say no now—put this all to rest and go with a much more traditional design. But what Clary had created reflected power and grace. A struggle, both internal and external. It reminded him of the man Magnus had helped him become. And even though that recognition would be painful every time he put the mask on if he and Magnus weren’t together, it was exactly the image he wanted to portray.

“I know. I’d still like to be able to wear it for the finals.”

“I think we can make that happen. I’ll get working on a final design.”

Alec squeezed her shoulder. “I owe you, Fray.”

“Never, Lightwood. This is what family does.”

 

****

 

Magnus stood outside his loft, resting his forehead on the smooth wood of his door.

“I’m taking back my home,” he said to himself for at least the twentieth time since he’d left Raphael’s penthouse. Yet he still hadn’t been able to convince himself to open the door. Because of the box Alec had taken with him and the house cleaning Magnus had ordered, there would be nothing left of Alec inside. A fresh start. A restart Magnus didn’t know if he wanted at all, but had set in motion nonetheless.

The elevator pinged and Magnus tipped his head toward the sound, watching Catarina approach with Chairman’s cat carrier at her side. She held out her hand and Magnus obligingly placed the keys in her palm.

“Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Magnus rolled off the door with a dramatic huff then walked in behind her. He scanned the apartment for signs of anything out of place, finding everything just as pristine as it had been every other time his service had come through. Magnus headed for the island to look over the standard note from the housecleaning service—detailing the work they’d done while he’d been out— only to find a very _non_ _standard_ envelope paper-clipped behind the single sheet of paper. He cocked his head and drew the envelope out, his breath catching when he recognized the handwriting on the front.

Catarina set Chairman’s carrier on the floor. “What is it?”

“A note from Alec.”

“So read it.”

Magnus’ hands shook. Not knowing what the envelope contained scared him. It wasn’t heavy enough to hold a set of keys, but Alec could’ve left them with Danny or Max. Just as he could have done with all the gifts Magnus had given him. The note inside could be a final goodbye. A wish for good luck. It would be so like Alec to want to ensure they parted on good terms. But there was also the possibility that the note said Alec wasn’t willing to let him go….

Magnus tore the envelope in half without opening it and dropped it into the recycling. “I told him it was over. I can’t keep doing this and still move on.”

“Magnus!” Catarina slapped her palms on the counter and Magnus jolted. “Stop being an idiot. You don’t want this to end any more than he does. Just read it.”

Magnus lifted his eyes to his best friend. He hoped she could see his fear so he didn’t have to admit to the extent of it out loud. “I can’t, Cat.”

“You can and you will.”

She extracted the envelope from the bin and slipped the note from the envelope, smoothing the paper out and lining up the two halves. She pushed them in front of Magnus, her eyes staying locked to his, never drifting to the letter. “I’ll get the Chairman re-situated. You. Sit and read.”

Magnus dropped onto the barstool next to him, thumb running over the line of his index finger over and over again. He slid the two halves closer, sighed, and began to read:

 

Magnus,

You’ve always listened, not just heard me. So tonight I decided to do that same thing. I walked out of your loft without fighting because I wanted to think about what you were saying to me and decide if you were seeing something I wasn’t.

I don’t think we hated each other in the beginning because we were different. I think we hated each other because we saw more of ourselves in each other than we wanted to admit—I was the past you had moved on from, and you were the future I was scared to embrace.

I guess I should have known then where this all would lead.

But once we got past that, we were friends first. I can look back now and see the moments where I was burying my attraction to you, but then…. Then, you were the first person I texted when something good or bad or funny happened in my life. I called you when I’d get lost in some endless Google search loop and needed to unload all those random facts on someone, and you’d call me to narrate whatever show was your most recent obsession on Netflix. We talked a lot. And we laughed a lot too, remember that?

Then I showed up at your door before game seven and everything changed. We had less than two days to get used to the idea of an “us” before the world came crashing down around us and we had to hold onto each other tight and close ranks because of Sebastian and my parents. It was survival, unchecked emotion, and an overwhelming need to have you at my side as a blatant “fuck you” to everyone and everything telling us we shouldn’t be together.

That’s the point where you were right—if things between us had been normal from the start, we probably wouldn’t have ever ended up together. But that’s because I wasn’t ready.

I’m ready now, Magnus, and that’s because of you. You’ve forever changed how I see my place in the world. I’m not the man who was cruel to you at that first photo shoot, but I never really was, right? You challenged me to be myself instead of who everyone else thought I was. Who I thought everyone else wanted me to be.

You don’t fit seamlessly into my life, but that’s why I chose you. You challenge and inspire me like no one else ever has.

You said something tonight about earning a place at my side, but the thing is, you never had to earn it in the first place. Once I got past all my own bullshit, I was honored you would want to be with me at all. That you ever chose me fucking mystifies me still.

Remember when I told you that you were up six to eight? I counted your acceptance of me as a gift. It held more weight and a different meaning than the rest of the gifts you gave me. Knowing you accepted me despite all my faults helped me be at peace with myself.

I can’t package that acceptance into a box to give back to you, but I think I’ve lost it anyway. And through no fault of your own—I’m the one who shut you out.

It would be easy to blame that on my career choice. When we’re in the heat of an argument, Izzy likes to remind me that I’m too good at deflecting shit. Maybe I chose to be a goalie not because I love the game or because it’s the one position that never leaves the ice, but because pushing away pucks is just as easy for me as people or truths I don’t want to face. At least it was until I met you. I can’t push you aside. I can’t deflect my feelings for you. I don’t want to shut you out…. And yet I did. Apparently, my shutout streak isn’t just in the arena.

I said so many things to you the night I broke up with you that I regret. Cruel words that I wish I could take back, because they just weren’t true. Getting involved with each other wasn’t a mistake. You were never a mistake.

The world is an unfair place and we should have met under different circumstances. But this is our reality, Magnus.

Yes, we’re different, but I can’t deny that those differences also brought us together.

You sought acceptance, and I wanted you just as you are.

I craved a home, and you gave me yours.

We are two flawed people with fucked up pasts who are complete as individuals, but together? I think we may be even stronger…. If we could find a way to let each other all the way in.

Fuck. This is basically a running narrative straight from my brain to my hand, and I should rip this apart and make sure you never see it, but I can’t do that. Maybe you’ve ripped this up without reading it at all….

I can’t give up hope that maybe the next time I see you that you’ll want to listen, though. There’s a lot I want to say to you, but only one thing that matters more than any of the rest.

 

\- Alec

 

Magnus stared at the two halves, torn apart just as Alec thought he might do. Magnus slid one half under the other and folded them together.

“Are you okay?”

Magnus shook his head. Pushed the letter towards Cat.

“Those are words meant for you,” she said quietly, refusing to touch it.

“Please, Catarina.” Magnus blinked back the tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t know which end is up anymore.”

Catarina nodded and unfolded the note. She took her time, gaze lingering on each line as she read it through once, then a second time, before setting it aside.

She sighed and pulled the barstool up next to him, close enough that Magnus could lean on her. “He told Ragnor and me that you’re the best man he knows.”

Magnus threaded his arm through hers and set his cheek on her shoulder. “You met him?”

“I texted Izzy and she made a phone call for us. We went to see him at the arena before game three.”

Magnus shook his head at her defiant tone. “I suppose you expected me to be upset about that, but I’m not.”

“If I’d told you that ten minutes ago you would’ve been.”

Magnus chuckled. “You know me too well.”

Cat settled her hand over his and squeezed. “Because you’ve let me all the way in, Magnus.”

Magnus winced and sat up. “There was a never a risk to allowing you to know all of me, Cat. We’ve always been just friends. But Alec… I have a past strewn with the mangled remains of failed relationships.”

“Magnus.” Cat dragged out his name in a world-weary sigh. “You and I have been friends for two decades. The same span as you and Ragnor. Then there’s Clary, Jocelyn, Dot, Tessa, Will, Jem, and Raphael—no matter how much you two want to deny you like each other. That’s not even including the relationship you’ve rekindled with your foster mother. That list doesn’t include a romantic relationship simply because, until now, you’ve never dated anyone who felt as strongly for you as you did for them. You don’t have _short_ friendships or relationships when they’re true. You’re loyal.”

“He’s a good man, Cat.”

“And you are too.”

“I try to be.”

“You _are_.”

Magnus picked up the letter and ran his thumb over the indentations where Alec had put pen to paper. Regardless of the fact that it didn’t contain a particular three-word declaration, it was the first love letter Magnus had ever received. “Isabelle said that I’m punishing Alec, and maybe I am in part, but I’m also punishing myself. And I don’t quite understand why.”

“I think you do.”

Magnus’ head snapped up to find Izzy standing in the doorway.

She shrugged. “I was on my way to Max’s place. The door was cracked open.”

Magnus glared at Catarina, but she merely smiled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Cat and Izzy embraced, a shared whisper between them, then Cat closed the door behind her.

“She called you, didn’t she?”

Izzy’s heels clicked on the floor as she walked over and set her purse on the counter. “Actually, I called her first. I couldn’t deal with not knowing whether you had read it or not.”

Magnus held up one half in each hand. “I ripped it up, then I did.”

“Talk to me. Please.”

“Isabelle. Cat may know me better than anyone else, and you are the same for Alec, but it’s possible both of you are too entangled in our lives.”

Izzy crossed her arms. “Are you really saying that Cat and I are too invested in wanting to see people we love be happy? Together?”

Magnus’ shoulders sagged almost of their own accord. “Maybe Alec and I wouldn’t be happy together. Not in the long run. We could give it another try, but at some point I have to protect myself. I can’t go through losing him again.”

“You can honestly tell me that the thought of breaking up with Alec again scares you more than the possibility of letting an entire lifetime of happiness go?”

Magnus rolled his eyes at the cliché and opened his mouth to dismiss it.

“Do not open your mouth and lie to me,” Izzy insisted. She slid back the chair next to him and perched on the edge of the seat, facing him. “You know what you’re really frightened of? Someone really loving you—heart and soul. Someone you can’t hide from. That person who sees all the ugly pieces of yourself that you’ve been hiding away for years. Those parts of yourself that have made countless other people run away. It is _terrifying_ when you find the person who sees all of that, but doesn’t leave as fast as they can. Because you finally begin to let down walls, yet you’re constantly wondering what the one thing will be that breaks them. But the thing is…. When you find that person, there’s _nothing_ that will drive them away. And that…. That is even more terrifying.”

That fear clawed at Magnus’ chest. It rippled across his skin. It made him want to shut every emotion down and retreat as deeply into denial as he could.

He met Izzy’s eyes and saw the same fear reflected there. A harrowing mirror of his own experience that he hadn’t realized he and Izzy shared at all.

“That’s right, Magnus. I’m not here because I understand Alec. I’m here because I understand _you_.”

“You and Simon?”

Izzy nodded. “Remember when I told you that things got worse with my mom? It was because she found out I was going to marry him. She showed up at my door ranting about how he was beneath the family name. You know how antagonistic my mom is, so of course I tried to push away her voice in my head—failed, but tried. Then my dad called, mirroring what my mom had said, and I lost it, completely broke down. As always, Simon was right there taking care of me, but I refused to talk to him about it. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t just see past my bullshit and still love me, I wanted to _let_ him. And that moment…. Understanding that unconditional love actually existed…. It was too much for me to handle. I packed a bag and took off when he was at work.”

Magnus cringed. He’d packed a bag and left his own apartment, then just for good measure, had packed a box for Alec too—leaving it for Alec to discover without any explanation. “Simon doesn’t know, does he? That you almost gave him up?”

“You’re the only one who does. I was back home that night before he was.” Izzy eyes filled and she straightened her shoulders. “I’m not proud of that moment. But I know now that I was making that decision out of fear.”

Magnus swallowed thickly. “I’m glad you didn’t. You deserve to be loved that way.”

“ _Everyone_ does, Magnus.” Izzy swiped at her tears and leaned into him. “Look. I know I’m biased, but I think you know as well as I do that you are safe with Alec. You can let every single one of your walls fall and he will stand with you. Look at this letter—at everything Alec has done. Alec is that person for you.”

Magnus gripped the letter tighter, unable to meet her eyes.

Izzy set her hand on his back. “Just think about it, okay?”

It was too much to take in. Too much to hope for.

And unlike the vulnerability Izzy had embraced, it was possibly too much for him to ever accept.

“I will.”

But that promise sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

 

****

 

“Good morning, Mr. Lightwood,” the guard called out as the gate to the player’s lot scraped open.

Alec waved at the security guard and parked in his spot. He hefted his bag over his shoulder and headed for the arena door, using his keys to get inside. Pools of yellowed security lights illuminated his path through the hallways. The biting scent of industrial cleaners assaulted his nose.

Alec dressed, putting on all his gear, and made his way to the practice rink.

It would be hours before anyone else showed up at the arena for official practice, but Alec hadn’t been able to sleep and had nowhere else to go. A state that had been familiar for years, but he’d hoped—for a while—would change. Alec flipped the switches to the practice rink, the snap of stadium lights echoing through the empty space and illuminating it in a harsh, bright whiteness he had to blink back. He breathed in the crisp air and skated to the net.

There was no one to shoot pucks at him, so Alec pushed himself into iron cross drills—short bursts of speed forward, backward, then side to side. Forcing himself to maintain the perfect stance with each movement. He sucked in frigid air until his teeth ached and sweat dripped down his forehead, critiquing his own stance and correcting his own posture.

The Nashville Predators were now one game away from clinching the western conference.

He had to be _better_.

The practice rink door slammed open and Alec watched as Garroway dropped a clipboard onto the bench, scowled at him, then disappeared through the door again.

Alec sighed and switched to the muscle- and mind numbing repetitiveness of push, stop, recovery drills. Slide to the right, cut to a stop, drop down, push back up, then slide to the left and repeat.

He lost himself in the machination of reinforcing muscle memory, until the door to the rink crashed open again and Garroway entered on skates and with stick in hand, dumping a bucket of pucks at center ice.

Alec clacked his stick against the ice and Garroway rushed forward, whipping the puck over Alec’s shoulder and into the net. Alec clenched his jaw and reset his stance.

Garroway swished to a stop in front of him. “You’re the best goalie I’ve ever seen play this game, Alec. But you get in your own damn way.”

Alec ground his teeth together.

Garroway gave him a clipped nod. “Let’s go again.”

Garroway came at him with a speed and precision that Alec didn’t anticipate, blasting the puck at him from impossible angles and attacking Alec’s weak spots with faultless precision. Garroway’s pace didn’t slow, even as he wiped sweat away with his glove, marring the ice with deep cuts, and finding the back of the net over and over again as Alec’s frustration level rocketed.

“Get out of your own way, Alec,” Garroway growled and came at him again.

Alec struggled to find the headspace he’d fallen into in the last game. To forcibly erase his boundary lines so he could push past his limits. Garroway didn’t give him space to breathe or time to think, he pummeled Alec’s body and mind with shot after shot that had him dropping, saving, and recovering faster than he ever had in any game.

The next time his coach drew his stick back Alec was already in position, pushing the puck away and anticipating where it would come from next. Garroway grunted in frustration and slammed his stick forward again, an arcing slapshot careening the puck toward the net.

Alec smashed his knees together and crashed to the ice, the puck ricocheting off his pads at the perfect angle so he could slam it away with a force that made it bang off the boards and skitter down past center ice, out of Garroway’s immediate reach.

Alec fell back on the ice in exhaustion and pushed up his cage, harsh breaths gasping out of his lips.

Garroway leaned over him, gloved hands planted on his knees as his chest heaved. “That is how you do it, son.” Garroway tapped his stick against Alec’s pads and stood up, wincing. “Fuck. I need water.”

Alec huffed out a laugh and smiled. He dropped his stick to the ice and got to his feet, snatching his water bottle off the top of the net to quench his own burning throat.

Garroway shot a stream of water in his mouth then pointed his bottle at Alec. “I can’t believe you made it one full day without coming here. And that Jace isn’t here with you.”

Alec glanced at the clock hanging above the door as he caught his breath. Practice wasn’t set to start for another two hours. “He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Of course he will.”

Garroway tossed his water bottle away, then cut an effortless path across the ice, corralling the pucks into position for the offensive drills Jace and Alec always started with. Alec slung both his arms over the crossbar and leaned back, taking the weight off his shaking legs as he watched his coach.

“You miss it?” Alec called out. “Being a player?”

Garroway nodded. “Every time I watch one of you jump over the boards I want to follow.”

Alec chuckled. “I can’t imagine my life without being in front of the net.”

“Savor every minute of it, but remember that this game doesn’t define who you are.” Garroway slid to a stop in front of Alec and leaned on his stick. “Someday you’ll be standing behind the bench or sitting up in one of the broadcaster booths.”

“That sounds a lot like the rest of my life being defined by this game, Coach.”

“Hockey is your job, not your life. I learned that the hard way.”

Alec nodded. “You should’ve had a year or two left to play.”

“The hit that took me out wasn’t just brutal and uncalled for, it was—” Garroway looked away and took a deep breath, as if he was debating whether to finish that sentence at all. He banged his stick against the ice and met Alec’s eyes again. “It was a deathblow. Every one of my family members and my friends were tied to hockey somehow. I’d sacrificed everything to be a pro and once the limelight was gone, they were too.”

Alec couldn’t imagine a scenario where his friends or siblings would abandon him because he was no longer actively playing. But that also meant none of them truly understood how much being a goalie meant to him. “I’ve kept hockey and my personal life separate since I was a kid…. I don’t think that was the right way to go about it either.”

“Maybe not,” Garroway conceded. He skated for the boards, opening the door to the bench and laying his stick inside. “When you figure out the right balance, you tell me what it is.”

Garroway’s tone and body language indicated the conversation was over, but this was the most personal discussion Alec had ever had with him. A man he respected and whose opinion he valued.

Alec sucked a breath in through his teeth and followed his coach to the bench. “Hockey takes a toll on relationships. But you know that outside of just family and friends, right?”

Garroway grunted. “Clary told you.”

“More or less.”

Garroway slipped his gloves off and tossed them next to his stick. “There’s definitely _more_ to the story than she knows, but if I’m going to have that conversation, it will be with her first.”

“I respect that.”

“So. Hockey and relationships. You and Magnus…?”

Alec blew out a long breath and set his forearms on the boards, leaning forward to drop his mitt and blocker to the floor. “We’re not together anymore, and Lydia will be taking over as my agent after the negotiation.”

Garroway rested against the glass behind him and crossed his arms. “But that doesn’t change that you want to be out?”

Even if his relationship with Magnus was over, there would be someone else eventually. Alec wasn’t going to hide anymore.

“Not at all.”

Garroway didn’t break eye contact with him, but didn’t say anything else.

Alec let the silence sit for a second then two. He cleared his throat. “Is there something else you want to talk about, Coach?”

“Depends. You have something you want to talk about?”

Alec nodded and pushed up. “Aldertree from the Penguins…. I saw him with Alaric before game three. Does the front office know about me?”

“If they do, they haven’t told me. And since I didn’t know anything about Aldertree coming in until after it had already happened….” Garroway frowned. “It’s not good. So I’m hoping these will help with your negotiation.” Garroway picked up his clipboard and slid out a manila envelope from the clasp. “These are letters of support from every player on the team. There’s one in there from me too.”

Alec accepted the envelope, his throat tightening. All his life he’d faced people telling him no. No, he wouldn’t be good enough to go pro. No, he couldn’t be a professional player and be gay. He’d proven all of them wrong, continuing to push for what he wanted in life.

And now he had an entire team and his coach standing behind him, telling him yes. He held tangible proof of that support in his hands.

Alec was overwhelmed.

“Doing this is a risk—for all of you. Why…?”

“It is a risk,” Garroway acknowledged. “But we’re doing what’s right. We see you as a damn good goalie and not just a gay man. It’s how you want to be seen and that’s how we see you. I’ll keep on repeating it until you hear me—get out of your own way, Alec.”

Alec nodded and took a deep breath. His teammates and his coach were taking a risk for him—all to prove a point. One that Alec himself had been pushing since he’d first come out to them. He’d set this in motion and it was time to see it through.

Just like with his mask, the track he was on wouldn’t change because Magnus may not be part of his life in the future. He had to start this next phase of his career the right way.

“What if….” Alec locked eyes with his coach. “What would you say if I wanted to tell the GM I’m gay before the negotiation even starts?”

Garroway’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d say I’d hit you in the head with too many pucks today—”

Alec scoffed. “My stats—”

Garroway held up a hand to stop him. “And I’d also say that, maybe, you’ve been listening to me more than I thought.”

Garroway smiled and Alec knocked a closed fist against the boards. “Okay.”

Now he just had to decide how to tell Magnus about the change to his plans.

 

****

 

Magnus leaned back in the chair in his home office, glancing warily at the teak and silver clock on the wall above his desk, the tarnished hands clicking closer to midnight. He was heading into Alec’s negotiation tomorrow, a negotiation that would be more stressful than any other he’d ever brokered. He couldn’t afford to be weak or distracted. It was the last job he would perform for Alec and he had to be perfect.

His professional reputation was on the line. This would be a test of his validity as a sports agent and an eagerly anticipated follow up to the success of the Gallant negotiation. All of his colleagues would be watching to see if the flamboyant, outspoken talent agent could actually pull off the gravitas needed to face down the front office of one of the biggest sports teams in the country.

If he had enough _testosterone_ to make it happen.

Magnus sneered, laid his head on the chair and closed his eyes, counting out his breaths to the ticking of the clock to slow his racing heartbeat. He would see Alec tomorrow, there was no choice on that. And out of every complication he had planned for, every contract minutiae he was prepared to argue, Alec’s presence in that room was the one complexity that could be his downfall.

Magnus scrubbed his hands over his face, likely smearing his makeup even more than it already was, and glanced at the antique hutch against the far wall. The door to his fireproof safe was open now, even though it had remained locked since Magnus had pulled his address book out of there a week ago to contact his foster mother, Siti. He’d opened it tonight with the intent to hide away every Alec-based item he didn’t want to think about anymore inside—the letter, the bracelet, and the white cardboard box he’d received in his mail the night he’d told Alec he was done.

Instead, he’d unlocked the safe and been drawn into a visual inventory of the contents. Pictures, documents, correspondence, and mementos. A hiding place for the darkest and most painful stages of his life. He’d stumbled away from the safe and been sitting in his chair since—hoping that time and silence would provide a better answer than it had since Izzy had walked out of his apartment over twenty-four hours ago.

That clearly wasn’t happening.

Magnus swiped the white shipping box off his desk and planted his feet on the floor. He unwrapped the contents carefully, weighing the heft of the pietersite stone in the palm of his hand. This particular stone was a rare conglomeration of red, gold, and blue, swirling together like the eye of a storm. A present for Alec that, in the fallout of their break up, he’d forgotten he’d ordered at all.

The tempestuous nature of the stone was meant to signify change. To provide a clarity of purpose and meaning in the midst of upheaval. And the red, gold, and blue…. Those colors would forever remind him of Alec.

Magnus set the box aside and palmed the stone in one hand, picking up the bracelet and pieces of the letter with the other. He took a deep breath and approached the safe, placing all three together next to the stack of Angels’ tickets inside.

Magnus couldn’t resist the draw to reach out for them. These tickets differed in shape and color from the piles of theater and film tickets he’d accumulated over the years. These were more tattered and worn, even though they too had only been used for one night of entertainment. He’d held these tickets in sweaty palms and between fingers that crushed the material in anxious wait. He’d cared more about the outcome of each game than he had any play, movie, or awards show setting the entertainment world ablaze.

He picked up the stack and rifled through, sliding back in time with each slip of paper, to the first game he’d ever attended—Max and Izzy at his side as they’d watched Alec fall apart in the first game of the playoffs. A ticket from the cheap seats at the top of the arena. One that was creased and the lettering smeared from being held in a tight grip.

Magnus cradled the ticket carefully.

Alec had shown up at his front door unannounced after that game—a broken man in need of reassurance and safety. A man who’d sought out Magnus for comfort and Magnus had let him in. That night he’d nearly crossed every professional boundary he’d ever set up, because, for once, he felt valued and desired for more than his appearance or his reputation. That night, Alec had stopped both of them from crossing a line they both wanted to crash over.

In the weeks after, he’d said yes to anything Alec had asked of him.

Magnus stared at the ticket, a shiver passing over his skin….

No. He’d been saying yes to whatever Alec wanted from the very beginning.

He’d handed over control of the direction of their relationship from the moment he’d sat at Izzy’s dinner table and agreed to keep Alec’s contract despite the undesirable circumstances he’d be working under. And while that could have been interpreted as him giving space to Alec, the truth was rooted in his brain now and he couldn’t push it away. He’d ceded control—and superseded his own needs—because then he would never be the one to blame for any missteps.

He’d known from the moment that he’d said the words _important, meaningful, rare_ in response to what was happening between them that what they shared wasn’t like any other relationship he’d ever been in. He’d acknowledged that fact by risking his career and his reputation, and yet….

Yet he’d never risked anything he wasn’t already prepared to lose.

Magnus set the ticket aside, and ran his fingertips over the stone—a present he’d intended to ease and inspire change.

Maybe it wasn’t Alec who’d needed this gift at all.

Magnus sighed.

Allowing all of his walls to drop meant taking every object in this safe, every memory he’d buried deep, and leaving them all out in the open for Alec to discover bit by bit. To stand by and watch Alec’s keen-eyed scrutiny of every detail—fearing what his reaction would be, but not scuttling them off into the shadows again. To have faith that Alec wanted to hold the jagged shards of Magnus’ past even though they would cut at him too. To trust that Alec would continue to care for him even if Magnus’ wounds would never quite heal.

Magnus settled the stone inside the curve of Alec’s bracelet and walked out of his office….

Leaving the safe unlocked.

 

****

 

Alec stood in front of his hallway mirror, adjusting his tie. Black crescents circled under his eyes from a night spent fighting sleep, counting down the hours to his negotiation and seeing Magnus again.

It had been three days since he’d slid that letter under Magnus’ door, and besides the ten seconds they’d talked to each other at the party, they’d had no other contact. Because of that silence, he was preparing himself to come face-to-face with the detached, imposing man who’d dominated the negotiations with Gallant. A man who’d hated him then. Alec had no idea how Magnus felt about him now.

He had no doubt of Magnus’ professional abilities, though, and his faith in Magnus was the primary reason he wasn’t a nervous wreck. The specter of Aldertree hung over his head, an ever-present weight slightly mitigated by the envelope full of letters of support from his teammates. It was possible they’d have no bearing on his negotiation, but they were everything he needed to know that the people he valued most on the ice valued him too.

Alec ran his hand through his hair and over his beard, smoothing down the overgrown patches. He was ready an hour early for the negotiation, but he couldn’t stay in his apartment. He wanted to get to the arena. To breathe in the crispness of ice and hear the hum of the arena lights and remember why he loved the game as much as he did. He hoped his place with the Angels wouldn’t be stripped away from him today.

He also needed time. Time to sit down and figure out how to notify Magnus that he wanted the front office to know he was gay before even a word was said about his contract. But he’d been stewing over the options for twenty-four hours and still hadn’t arrived at an answer that wouldn’t leave him at odds with Magnus.

A knock echoed through his apartment and Alec cringed—an automatic response he was finding hard to shake since the cops had shown up at his door. Alec took a deep breath and reminded himself that Sebastian, Hodge, and Valentine were all in jail and his parents weren’t a threat.

Alec unlocked the deadbolt and froze with the door partway open. “Magnus.”

Magnus’ eyes lifted to Alec’s, his shoulders dropped. “Hello, Alec.”

“Hi. I, uh…. Did something change with the meeting today? I didn’t get a text from you.”

“I know it was always you showing up at my door unannounced, but….” Magnus chest lifted with a deep inhale. “May I come in?”

Alec’s heartbeat thundered in his ears as he gripped the handle and stepped back. “Yeah.”

Magnus nodded once and brushed past Alec into the living room. Alec set his other hand on the door to steady himself and closed his eyes as he clicked the door shut.

He stuffed his left hand in his pocket and turned around. “Magnus, I—”

“I’m listening,” Magnus cut in. He set his briefcase down and his voice softened. “You said in your letter that there was something else you wanted to say to me. So I’m here. I’m listening.”

Alec’s stomach bottomed out. He couldn’t find _any_ of the words he’d been desperately hoping he’d have the chance to say.

Magnus’ brow furrowed at Alec’s hesitation. “That’s not fair to you. You said a lot to me in that letter, and I haven’t—”

Magnus’ gold-green eyes focused intently on Alec. His thumbs circled over his fingers, his lips tightened into a thin line, and Alec waited.

He’d waited three days, hoping for this. He’d wait as long as it took to hear everything Magnus had to say.

“I _am_ here to listen,” Magnus continued. “But there are some things I’d like to say to you first.”

Alec shifted from foot to foot and motioned to the couch. “Do you want to…?”

Magnus shook his head, the crease between his eyes deepening.

Alec’s heartbeat kicked up as Magnus took a step closer to him.

“I shouldn’t have let you walk out my door the night I told you we were over. I know what I said, and you aren’t the only one who’s said things you regret…. I shut you out just as much as you did me. I’m sorry for that.”

“Things—” Alec swallowed against a dry throat. “Things you regret?”

“That I implied that you had given in to Sebastian Morgenstern, and…. That I wasn’t willing to give you— _us_ —another chance.”

Before Alec could process what Magnus was saying to him, Magnus took a step closer. Close enough that Alec could see the subtle shift of Magnus’ Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

Magnus tipped his chin up. “We are so different from each other, but….”

Alec scanned Magnus’ face, searching for the answer he hoped to hear. “But?”

“But, I think you were right.” Magnus looked up at Alec with sure, clear eyes and set his hand on Alec’s chest. “Those differences may just make us stronger.”

Alec sagged against Magnus in relief, resting his forehead against Magnus’ and breathing him in. “Please, Magnus. Tell me you’re sure. Because…. Because I’ve never been sure of anything in my life like I am of you, but I’ve also never been so fucking scared. I was scared when I broke up with you. I’m scared now about losing you completely. I guarantee I’ll be scared about the future. That—” Alec lifted his head so he could look Magnus in the eyes, and grasped onto Magnus’ hips to keep him close. “That is the one thing I needed you to hear more than anything else. I don’t want there _not_ to be an ‘us’ just because we don’t know what will happen next…. And I’m hoping you’re as scared as I am, because maybe that means you don’t ever want to let me go either.”

Magnus’ lips parted. His fingertips clung to Alec’s shirt. “You terrify me, Alexander.”

“Thank fuck,” Alec breathed out. “Because I’d like to be your boyfriend. Again. Officially. If that’s okay with you.”

“My beautiful goalie. Why else do you think I’m here?”

Magnus slid his hand up Alec’s chest and circled his hand around the back of Alec’s neck, tilting his head up so his lips gently pressed against Alec’s. A simple kiss of reacquaintance.

Alec lost his breath.

“Hey,” he rasped.

Magnus’ lips tipped into a smile. “We already said hello.”

“I know. But I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

The warmth and honesty in that statement—despite the underlying pain Alec could only begin to imagine—nearly brought Alec to his knees. Alec wrapped Magnus into his arms and buried his face in Magnus’ neck.

Magnus huffed out a surprised laugh and held just as tightly to him. “Are you ready for today?”

“Now I am.” Alec reluctantly let Magnus go. “But there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

Magnus frowned, and there was worry in the lines around his lips. Worry that Alec had placed there by choosing to push Magnus away instead of facing difficulties together.

Worry that was his responsibility to erase moving forward.

“I talked to Coach yesterday about letting the front office know that I’m gay and will be coming out before they present their offer. I’d like to know that any contract they offer is for _all_ of who I am, not the…pieces of me that signed that first contract three years ago. But I made that decision yesterday, and now…. I won’t bring it up if you don’t agree. It impacts you just as much as me, and if we’re going to do this right, then you have to be okay with it too.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “You don’t do anything the easy way.”

Alec shook his head. “It’s a definite character flaw.”

“I told you I’d help when you were ready, and, yes, I’m still okay with that decision now. It will reframe the parameters of the discussion, but I have tactics to swing that in your favor.”

Alec reached out for Magnus and grasped his hand. “Thank you.”

Magnus sighed as he looked to their joined hands. “We have a lot to talk about, Alexander. Not just this negotiation.”

A heaviness settled in Alec’s chest. “I know.”

“Nothing—” Magnus’ eyes met Alec’s. “Absolutely nothing held back.”

“Agreed.”

Magnus dropped his hand from Alec’s. “But not now.”

“We have time though, right?”

A smile inched up Magnus’ lips. “We do.”

Magnus exhaled and Alec breathed with him.

 

****

 

Magnus stepped into the elevator at the arena and snapped his cuffs into place. “Because of the conversations I’ve had with the front office for the last month, there’s a dollar range we’ve settled into. At this point, wherever we land in that range will be a fair deal for you, but I’m going to push for the upper limits.”

Alec marveled at how quickly Magnus flipped into his agent persona. Even though Magnus had showed up at Alec’s apartment without a call or a text less than an hour ago, dropped his heart in Alec’s hands, then agreed to be Alec’s boyfriend again, it was almost enough of a switch to make Alec forget that all had happened. Almost.

Alec couldn’t help running his eyes over Magnus one last time, though. He wore a classic black suit, tailored to accentuate his muscles and the slim line of his hips, a crimson dress shirt with a band collar and the top button undone, and his eyes thinly lined in black. His black nail polish-tipped fingers were clutched around the handle of an amber-hued leather briefcase, a silver insignia ring on his forefinger. The remaining jewelry on his fingers, wrists, and neck was carved out of a smoky, dark gray stone Alec couldn’t identify.

He looked different than any other agent who’d ever stepped onto this elevator.

He exuded power.

Alec hit the button for their floor, then clasped his hands behind his back and refocused on their meeting. “Okay.”

Magnus’ gaze bored through him, picking apart Alec’s facade with his instincts and the intimate knowledge of Alec’s tells that Alec had missed. “What are you most worried about?”

“That they already know.”

“Because of Aldertree, we have to assume they do.” Alec swore and Magnus held his hand up. “Bringing him in for a tryout was a tactic. They don’t want Aldertree, they want you—but for the least amount of money you’ll agree to. It’s likely I’m going to have to bring up the possibility of you taking free agency.”

Alec’s head snapped up. _No_. There was no way he’d agree to that just when he’d gotten Magnus back. “That would mean me relocating, and—”

Magnus’ features softened. “Alexander. There hasn’t been a second date yet, and I fully intend on that happening. Follow my lead.”

“Free agency is just a tactic, right? For us?”

“Yes.”

The thought of taking that risk made Alec’s stomach churn, but he nodded. “Okay.” He itched at his beard and leaned closer to Magnus. “And the other thing…? The second date?”

Magnus shrugged. “We’ll see if he says yes.”

The elevator pinged and Alec bit back a smirk. “We’ll see.”

Before the doors slid all the way open, Magnus was his agent again—the set of his shoulders shifted back, and his chin tipped up. He stepped confidently out of the elevator and Alec followed, taking a deep breath. There was a heaviness to the air on the executive level, as if it was weighted with authority and the expectation of success. Alec focused on Magnus and subtly swiped his hands dry, resisting the urge to stuff them in his pockets.

Magnus strode into the conference room and reached out to shake hands with Rufus Hastings, the Angels’ general manager. Alec followed suit and stood next to Magnus.

“Gentlemen, thank you for joining us today,” Rufus greeted them. He swept his hand dismissively toward Luke. “Mr. Bane, I assume you’ve met Coach Luke Garroway?”

“I didn’t expect to see you here today, Luke.”

Luke subtly glanced at Rufus. “Yeah, me either. It’s good to see you again, Magnus. And Alec….” Luke smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “I saw your interview on ESPN this morning. When ESPN is talking hockey, then you know you’ve made an impression.”

“Thank you, Coach.”

Magnus faced Rufus. “I understand you’re set to retire at the end of the season, Mr. Hastings.”

Rufus’ critical gaze swept across Magnus. “Officially, yes. But unofficially, Susanna Vargas has already taken over most of the day-to-day operation of the team.”

“Will she be joining us today?”

Rufus shook his head. “I’ve invited Alaric Rodriguez, our vice president of pro scouting, to join us. He should be here any minute, but told us not to wait for him.”

Magnus’ jaw tightened just as much as Alec’s at the mention of the name. Alec couldn’t remember the titles of the people who’d been in the room for his last contract negotiation, but he knew Alaric hadn’t been there. Or Luke.

Alec shifted just enough so only Magnus would be able to see his face and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

Magnus transferred his briefcase from one hand to the other and gave a subtle shrug. “I’m sure you’re ready to get started, Alec.”

Rufus nodded and commandeered the chair at the head of the table. “Have a seat. Let’s begin.”

Alec pulled out the chair next to Magnus and mirrored the general manager’s casual posture. He cleared his throat. “Before we get into the details of my contract, I’d like you to be aware that I’m gay and will be coming out publicly once the season is over.”

Luke and Magnus’ faces were unreadable masks, but Alec already knew what they thought.

Rufus tapped his fingertips against the glass table. “Are you dating anyone?”

That response confirmed for Alec that they _had_ already known, but was a follow up he hadn’t expected or prepared for. Alec opened his mouth, hoping for an appropriate answer to tumble out of his mouth instead of a stuttering mess, but Magnus silenced him with a look.

Magnus swiveled in his chair to face Rufus head on. “Is that a question you’ll be asking Jace Wayland when he renegotiates his contract?”

“What does Wayland have to do with this contract?”

“He shouldn’t have anything to do with it since Alec is going into the finals already having beat the record for most shutouts in a playoff season—nine shutouts in sixteen games. Statistics I’m sure you were aware of before we walked in the door. However, since it seems that Alec’s life off the ice is more important, as Jace’s agent I can tell you that whether or not Alec is re-signed will be the deciding factor on whether Jace takes free agency.”

Alec scrubbed a hand over his beard to cover the shock that had to be painted on his face. That was something Jace had never mentioned to him, and Alec couldn’t tell if Magnus was telling the truth or if it was merely part of his negotiation plan. He had a sinking feeling it wasn’t just a tactic.

Rufus didn’t flinch. “Really? Well, we do have to consider the salary cap.”

Alaric breezed into the room with apologies and handshakes, then dropped a file folder in front of Luke. “Here’s that scouting report you were looking for.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything else.

Magnus continued once Alaric had taken a seat next to Luke. “You haven’t made a move to trade either Alec or Jace since the beginning of their contracts. It’s clear you don’t want to lose either of them. I know you’re already looking at trades that will free up more than enough money to keep the talent you want on your roster. Far be it for a mere agent to show up an entire finance department, but it’s obvious which choices you want to make.”

Rufus leaned forward. “There are no guarantees in this room, Mr. Bane. Alec has performed well in the post-season, but he’s been far from perfect.”

Magnus met Rufus’ unflinching challenge. “Yet still higher ranked than Victor Aldertree.”

Alec sat back, relaxing. Rufus had played directly into Magnus’ hands—giving Magnus an opening to drop that name into the conversation from a position of knowledge and power instead of allowing Rufus to use it as a threat.

Rufus glanced at Alaric, who crossed his arms and answered, “We did bring him in for a preliminary discussion.”

Magnus’ calculating gaze slipped to Alaric. “Let’s skip over the reasons why you chose to do so, since the league’s collective bargaining agreement explicitly forbids discrimination based on sexual orientation. I want to drag the player’s union into this as much as you do—”

“Alec’s sexual preferences are not a concern to the organization,” Rufus interrupted. “Let me make that clear.”

Magnus’ jaw tensed. “By using the term “sexual preferences” your position is abundantly clear. So let’s be blunt—are we discussing a renewal of Alec Lightwood’s contract or not?”

Alec held his breath.

“That hasn’t been decided.”

 _Fuck_.

Alec clenched his left hand, trying to force the numbness back. He glanced across the table to his coach, but Luke was focused on the file folder cracked open in front of him. Alec watched as Luke slid his cell phone from his jacket pocket and typed out a message. They caught eyes as Luke pocketed his cell again and Luke gave him a clipped nod that Alec couldn’t begin to decipher.

“Very well.” Magnus picked up his briefcase and settled it on the table. “Let’s go back to the basics then.”

“Perhaps those are all you’re prepared to handle, Mr. Bane.”

Magnus smirked. “Unlike other positions, the best goalies are seasoned. As a rookie, Aldertree is a gamble. You have years’ worth of statistics to prove Alec’s reliability and skill. However, since the statistics that apply solely to Alec seem to be of the least importance to you….” Magnus opened his briefcase and extracted binders that he passed to everyone at the table with an elegant flick of his wrist. “Inside you’ll find side-by-side comparisons of the enhanced stats for how the Angels, as a whole, perform in games when Alec is in the net versus when he isn’t. Then you’ll find the same comparison for Aldertree and the Penguins. That’s followed by a summary of the areas where Alec’s influence on how the team performs is vastly superior to Aldertree’s. And just in case you still had any doubts, the last section is the same methodology applied to Alec and the Angels versus every other starting goalie and team in the league.”

“Whoa,” Alaric breathed out as he thumbed through the pages.

Rufus tore his gaze away from the binder and glared at Alaric.

“Allow me to save you the time of reviewing it all—Alec isn’t simply setting records, his leadership on the ice is the reason the Angels are in the finals at all.”

Rufus tossed the binder on the table. “Enhanced stats aren’t predicative of future performance.”

“Perhaps. But you know as well as I do that even _if_ Alec has reached the apex of his talent, historical analysis shows he has years before those skills begin to degrade.”

“This is all barring further injury to his knee, of course.”

Alec tensed. Rufus was grasping at every possible reason to tear Alec down—as if he’d walked into the room ready to make the case for refusing to re-sign Alec at all. All of Alec’s previous interactions with the Angels’ GM had been cordial, but maybe…. Alec’s stomach twisted as he put a name to Rufus’ purposeful ignorance. Maybe Rufus wasn’t willing to listen to _any_ logic, because the only reason he needed to hate Alec was because Alec was gay.

And the homophobic prick was in control of Alec’s future.

“I have the same medical reports you do,” Magnus responded coolly, continuing to push past every obstacle Rufus threw in his way. “Tests performed by _your_ medical staff that indicate, worst case scenario, Alec will need an outpatient procedure which can be completed in the off season with adequate time for rehabilitation, allowing him to come back before the fall at full strength—”

The door to the conference room slid open and Susanna Vargas entered, taking the seat at the other end of the table from Rufus. “My apologies for the interruption, gentlemen. Continue as you were.”

Luke sat back in his seat with a satisfied grin, and Alec’s anxiety ticked down with his reaction.

Magnus rested his forearms on the table, focusing solely on Rufus. “Alec’s stats and his fitness for the job are all things you know. I was beginning to think that you entered this room with the intent not to renew Alec’s contract at all, because you view his sexuality as a distasteful complication for the organization. But that….” Magnus tapped a glossed nail against the table, tipping his head and studying Rufus. “That’s not the case, is it?”

Rufus’ throat bobbed with a thick swallow and Alec watched, transfixed, as Magnus narrowed his eyes and leaned forward—like a predator aware that he’d trapped his prey, and had all the time in the world to toy with him, because there was nowhere to escape.

“You know the Angels need him. And yet, you intend to use my client’s sexual orientation—his personal life—as a bargaining chip. A supposed embarrassment that would compel him to settle for much less than he’s worth. Hoping, perhaps, that he will grasp onto whatever is offered to him for the opportunity to continue to play?”

Rufus clenched his jaw and didn’t answer.

“Let me make this clear,” Magnus said, his voice a commanding timbre that sent shivers up Alec’s arms. “That _will not_ be the case. Alec knows what he is worth. He will be the league’s first out player and he has consciously made that decision from a standing of great pride in every part of himself. His teammates view him with the same respect and pride.” Magnus pulled out the manila envelope and set it in front of Rufus. “They are aware of his orientation and every single one of them have written letters in support of Alec continuing on as their goalie and co-captain next season.”

“You’ll find one from me in there too,” Luke added.

“Lucien….” Rufus growled.

“You know where I stand on this. I want Alec on my ice again next year.” Luke slid the folder in front of him across the table to Susanna. “But only if he’s going to be paid what he would have been before you were fed information that wasn’t yours to know.”

“I am the general manager until the season ends,” Rufus snarled. “This is _my_ legacy.”

Susanna scanned the piece of the paper in the file. Her back straightened as she met Rufus’ anger head on. “You helped build this franchise, Rufus, but Mr. Whitelaw agreed it was time for you to move on. This team belongs to him, and their future belongs with me.”

Rufus stared Susanna down. “Can you give us five minutes to talk privately?”

Alec gaped at the executive power struggle they’d unknowingly walked into.

Magnus looked to Alec. “I believe that request was directed at us, and the actual question should be—Alec, do _you_ want to continue this negotiation?”

Alec swallowed as he realized what Magnus was really saying. It was a tactic that scared the shit out of him, but he’d agreed to follow Magnus’ lead. He trusted him.

He met Rufus’ eyes, determined. “You’ve been discussing potential terms for weeks now. I want to play for the Angels, for Coach Garroway, and with my teammates. But if my loyalty and hard work aren’t going to be recognized, then I’m going to make the choice to move on.”

“ _You_ pushed for this contract to be finalized before the season is over, Mr. Hastings,” Magnus continued without a beat of hesitation. “We’re prepared to settle this definitively today. Present your best offer now, or we’ll end this meeting with the understanding that both Alec and Jace will be pursuing unrestricted free agency when the season ends.”

Rufus sat back in his chair, disdain pouring off him. “What does the future of the Angels’ organization have to say, Susanna?”

Susanna’s gaze settled on Alec. “Five years, thirty-seven point five million overall, and an increased percentage of the league playoff bonus.”

Alec sucked in a breath. “Yeah, that’s—”

“On the lower end,” Magnus cut in. “But it is a starting point.”

Luke sat across from him with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face.

Alec shook his head in disbelief. If that was the lower end, then despite Magnus’ assertion that Alec knew his own worth, Alec had been severely underestimating it.

He scratched at his beard, taking a moment to let those initial terms sink in. He had to move past the staggering numbers and focus on what really mattered to him, and it was Luke’s voice he heard in his head— _hockey is your job, not your life_.

“I don’t need more from the playoff bonus pool,” Alec finally said. “That money shouldn’t benefit me more than it does any of the other players working past the regular season to bring home a championship. But what is important….” Alec couldn’t look at Magnus without giving himself away. But that he could feel Magnus’ presence at his side, and it brought him peace, reaffirmed what he needed the most if he was going to find the right balance. “I want to stay in New York.”

Susanna nodded. “We’re open to discussing a no-movement clause.”

Magnus whipped out a pen and paper from his briefcase with a flourish, the smile on his lips growing. “Now we’re negotiating.”

 

****

 

Magnus slid his suit coat off his shoulders, drinking in the warmth of the sun, and the comfort of having Alec across the table from him. Just the two of them.

They’d wandered north after the negotiation ended, in the opposite direction of both of their homes, as if by silent agreement neither was ready to part quite yet. They’d finally settled in Bryant Park, where the afternoon crowd was sparser than it was at mid-day, offering them the breathing room and anonymity of a bistro set that wasn’t surrounded by families, tourists, or business people seeking the sunshine and fresh air on their lunch break.

Alec hunched over his phone, sunglasses slipping down his nose as he tried to cast enough of a shadow to see his screen.

Magnus—eyes hidden behind his own sunglasses—took the opportunity to look.

At some point during their walk Alec had loosened his tie and undone the buttons under his collar. His fingers pulled at the royal blue fabric now, slipping it over his head—without taking his eyes off his screen—and hanging it from the corner of his chair, where his suit coat had already been slung before they’d even sat down. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, his skin turning pink under the heat of the afternoon sun.

His beard was a choppy mess. It was long enough now that it had brushed softly across Magnus’ skin when Magnus had kissed him earlier. It was possible Alec hadn’t trimmed it at all since the morning Magnus had done it for him.

Alec chuckled at whatever he read on his screen—likely a congratulatory message from one of his siblings. Magnus didn’t ask. He was satisfied seeing Alec so unguardedly happy.

As sure as he’d been as soon as Susanna walked in the room that she was the one in charge and not Rufus, there had been a moment during their in-fighting when he’d thought that maybe he’d misjudged and Rufus wasn’t going to give in. That Alec would have to walk away and accept free agency. That there wouldn’t be more time for them past the finals because Alec would be gone. A split second of fear that had reminded him there was still so much more he wanted to explore with Alec.

But now, Alec would be in New York for at least five more years.

They had time to get this right.

Magnus’ cell pinged with a text, pulling him out of his reverie. He shielded his phone from the sun to read the message from Clary, then looked up at Alec. “The final contract is being drafted by the Angels’ legal staff, I should have it for you to sign later this week. That will officially end my run as your agent.”

Alec flipped his cell face down and grinned. “I think Imogen will consider it a success.”

“And you?”

“Honestly?” Alec leaned back in his chair, the halting movements of his hands speaking for him before he said a word. “I’m kind of in shock. Everything about my life is a little surreal right now. The nightmare with Sebastian and my parents is over. I have a five-year contract with one of the best teams in the league for an amount of money I can’t begin to really comprehend. I’m headed into the finals with a league record number of shutouts in the playoffs….” Alec’s tongue flicked across his lips as he clasped his hands together on the table and leaned forward. “Then there’s you.”

“I’m curious to know where I fit on your spectrum of surreality. Am I closer to ‘nightmare’ or ‘can’t begin to comprehend?’”

“You”—Alec smirked—“are always off the charts.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “That was an awful line.”

Magnus reached out to lay his hand over Alec’s, but Alec jolted back, wincing.

Magnus’ heartbeat kicked up with the unexpected rejection. “What is it?”

“Shit. I’m sorry. Everything _is_ better. Having you back, it’s— But I didn’t….” His shoulders sagged. He slid off his sunglasses and rubbed at his eyes before he continued. “I did the same thing when you knocked on my door this morning, because I didn’t know who to expect. And I keep looking over my shoulder, worried that we’re being followed or watched.”

“We are in public and you haven’t fully come out,” Magnus replied without thought.

It was a statement Magnus had repeated many times to Alec before. Both an excuse and forgiveness. His skin prickled with unease at saying it now.

“That’s the thing—I don’t care. Let someone take a picture of me holding your hand or kissing you. Let it show up on the news. I’m not hiding anymore. And I know that here”—Alec pointed at his heart—“but maybe…. I’m having a harder time understanding that, fuck, pretty much everywhere else.”

Magnus took a deep breath and let that sink in. It was, and always had been, easy for them to fall into a pattern of banter and flirting. But that had been part of their problem all along. If they moved past this moment without acknowledging the deep, underlying hurt they both carried then nothing would change between them.

Magnus sat forward and set his elbows on the table, slipping off his sunglasses so Alec could look him in the eyes. “The night Clary and Simon shared the story of Max’s accident, Simon told me that the reason you rub at your left hand is because there’s a numb spot there—nerve damage resulting from you pulling Max out of the wreckage. I—” Magnus inhaled sharply and willed himself to finish that sentence. “I’ve experienced similar lingering after-effects from trauma. What Sebastian and your parents did to us wasn’t physical, but it scars nonetheless. It’s going to take awhile, Alexander. And some of it…. Some of it we’re never going to fully get over.”

“Shit.” Alec stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs under the table and bumping them up against Magnus’. “ _I_ haven’t even told you the story of Max’s accident myself. There’s so much you know about me, but so much of it that you’ve learned through my family and our friends.”

Magnus’ heart hurt at that admission. “There’s so much you don’t know about me at all, because I’ve only answered when asked instead of offering information.”

“I know enough to be sure of you _and_ of us. But I’m hoping you’ll want to tell me everything…. When you’re ready.”

Magnus met Alec’s eyes. His normally hazel eyes were almost gold in the sunlight. A fact Magnus stored away, saving space for the many others just like that he hoped to collect in the future. “I’m ready, Alexander.”

Alec nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. He scooted his chair forward and beckoned Magnus closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Just…come here.”

Magnus met Alec halfway across the table, and Alec cradled Magnus’ jaw in his hands, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ forehead, his cheek, then a last soft one on Magnus’ lips.

Magnus grasped onto Alec’s wrists, anchoring himself in the moment.

Alec had just kissed him in public.

Three times.

“It’s been two months and this feels new again,” Alec rasped out, his thumbs tracing the lines of Magnus’ jaw. “The same, but different.”

Magnus knew. “So what do we do now?”

Alec sat back, keeping one hand entwined with Magnus’. “We go on dates. We get to know each other better. We take it slow.”

“Okay.”

A languid smile spread across Alec’s face. “Did you know that today is the ten year anniversary of Max’s accident?”

“I didn’t.”

“Or as he likes to put it, his leg’s tenth birthday. I’m headed to Maia’s restaurant next for the party.”

Magnus chuckled. “He holds a birthday party for his leg?”

Alec shrugged. “It’s Max. I’m sure he’d love to have you there if you want to come.”

Magnus hesitated. He could imagine Izzy enveloping him when he walked in the door next to Alec, a sarcastic remark from Max, and a glowing smile on Clary’s face. He wasn’t ready to fall back into that pattern yet. Soon, but not quite yet.

“It’s probably better if I skip the party tonight. Go celebrate with your family. I’m going to stay here for a bit. It’s been…an emotionally taxing day. Week. Two months.”

Alec nodded and squeezed Magnus’ hand one more time before he stood. “A roller coaster we didn’t know we’d bought tickets for at all.”

Alec shrugged his jacket on and looped his tie around his neck. When he reached to swipe his phone up Magnus took hold of Alec’s hand again.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“Practice in the morning, meetings in the afternoon, then I don’t have anything after that.”

“Good. I’d like to take you out.”

Alec lips tipped into a shy smile. “Okay.”

Magnus let his hand fall away from Alec’s. “Say hello to everyone for me tonight.”

Alec nodded and started to walk away, running his fingers through his hair.

Magnus pulled his gaze away from Alec, leaning back and closing his eyes to soak in the sun.

“Magnus.”

Magnus smiled and turned his head toward Alec, only steps away from where he’d been before, but turned as if he hadn’t been able to leave without looking back. “Yes?”

“Things are different than before, and we _are_ different than each other, but I think…. I still think it’s in a good way.”

“How about in a potentially great way?”

“Yeah.” The lines around Alec’s mouth deepened with a wide grin. “Definitely.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Alexander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the third part of the four part structure of this story is complete! so what happens now?
> 
> we get to read about malec going on dates.
> 
> we get to learn more about both them.
> 
> and we take it slow….
> 
> maybe.
> 
> ‘cause let’s be real. we all know alec lightwood is wild as hell.
> 
> i’m on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic ♡ xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> malec goes on a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2B starts in less than two days!! who’s ready?
> 
> it’s been a much different hiatus than i expected it to be, and yet here we are together again :) because of needing to limit my time on social media, i’ve been on twitter way more than tumblr lately, so if you’re on there, come over and say hi to me @authorsamcauley or with #itsb.
> 
> this chapter starts the fourth (and final *SOB*) arc of the story. six more chapters to go after this! i never expected the response this fic has gotten, and can never say thank you enough for sticking with me through so many words and ridiculously long update times. because of you, my heart is like the kool-aid dude—constantly overflowing and excitable af. your comments, tweets, asks, mentions, kudos, art, headcanons, tags, questions, and all-around love make this wild endeavor so, so much better than i thought it could ever be. ** _thank you._**
> 
> ready for magnus and alec as boyfriends? it's been a loooooooong time coming. let's do this.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: previously mentioned traumas in alec’s and magnus’ lives, mention of suicidal thoughts (if you need to talk to someone, support is available 24/7 internationally at http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html)

Magnus stood at his counter and stared at the seconds ticking down on his cell phone as he timed his way to a perfect cup of tea. The dried bits of tea leaves, fruit, and blossoms expanded in the hot water, staining it a bright pink shade and filling the air around him with a muted sweetness. It wasn’t his normal morning drink, but this wasn’t a normal morning. He had reason to be content.

Alec was back in his life.

The timer beeped and Magnus filled his mug, blowing the steam away as he made his way to the windows where sunrise poured through the glass, warming the room. Soon he’d resort to switching on the air conditioning—when the summer air was too stifling to keep his cosmetics in pristine condition—but for now he welcomed the heat, reveling in it, and imagining it wrapping around him like a familiar blanket. He situated himself onto the pile of pillows by the glass wall and the Chairman rolled into a ball between Magnus’ legs, tucking his head into his stomach and promptly falling asleep.

Magnus knew the city streets below him were likely already thick with commuters, trucks, and cabs, but behind this tempered glass his loft was nearly silent. The only sounds were Chairman’s soft breaths and the muffled ticking of the clock in his office. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of jasmine, reminding himself to breathe.

It was all so peaceful, and yet, Magnus was unsettled.

Because Alec was back in his life.

He reached up and slid the window open, allowing the sounds of life to stir him to wakefulness. The breeze off the river fluttered the sheer curtains against the wall, then billowed them out again, and rainbows danced over him from the spinning of the crystal prism hanging from the window in the sunlight. He smoothed his hand over the Chairman’s fur and watched the colors and light play over his skin.

When the wind blew through and set the curtains and prism into motion, the unfiltered sunshine revealed the faded scars from his childhood, only to conceal the marks again when the air settled. Even hidden in shadow, he couldn’t tamp down the lick of fear they brought forth. Couldn’t deny that he’d carry those reminders forever. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was only adding to his wounds now.

He held so much hope and so much hurt. So much faith and so many questions. He loved Alec _and_ he was afraid.

No matter how seemingly opposable or incompatible those emotions were, he couldn’t suppress them. Couldn’t separate them.

He worried that maybe—just like with his scars—fear and pain would always overpower love.

His phone chirped and Magnus steeled himself, expecting the name he’d see on the screen before he actually did.

_Morning :)_

Magnus’ stomach fluttered as he replied to Alec. _Good morning_

The bubbles popped up as Alec typed out a reply, disappearing then reappearing over and over again. Then a much simpler reply than Magnus had expected— _Can I facetime?_

_Of course_

Magnus didn’t have a chance to take another sip of his tea before his cell trilled. He propped his phone on his knee and picked up the call, the screen fuzzing before Alec’s smile filled the entire screen.

“You’re a bit close to the camera,” Magnus noted.

“Sorry,” Alec said. He sat back, holding up a mug. “I had to get my coffee.”

Magnus lifted his own cup. “Tea.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

He’d been half-asleep before he’d even fallen into bed. He’d woken from a dreamless, deep sleep, refreshed for the first time in ten days and with a slinking unease rippling across his skin.

Magnus pushed that consideration away for now and playfully arched an eyebrow. “Do I look like I slept well?”

“You look gorgeous.”

Magnus chuckled softly. “It’s much too early for flattery.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Sorry for calling so early, I just…. I needed to see you. To make sure yesterday was real.”

“Your contract is very real.”

Alec shook his head. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Magnus smiled coyly and lifted his cup to his lips.

Alec readjusted his phone then leaned back in his chair, both of his hands now cradling his coffee cup. “Where are you anyway? All I can see is this…haze of light around you.”

“That is my halo.”

Alec chuckled.

“I’m sitting by my windows,” Magnus answered.

On the screen, Alec sipped at his coffee, nodding. “It looks…nice.”

“It is.”

A deep silence fell between them.

It took one breath for Magnus to understand that, inexplicably, the conversation had died. A lull in banter that hadn’t occurred between them ever. The silence thickened with each second that passed, and Magnus’ throat tightened, everything that hadn’t been said hanging in the space between them like an uninvited, and wholly unwelcome, third presence in the room.

Maybe that lull wasn’t so inexplicable at all.

“I would commit murder for a balcony or terrace,” Magnus rushed out, trying to fill the deafening quiet. His stomach churned, and he had to look away as the smile on Alec’s lips faded away. “But then I wouldn’t be able to appreciate said balcony in a penitentiary. As all other legal avenues demand payment—and alas, I do not have the power to conjure money out of thin air—it appears as if I’ll remain balcony-less for the foreseeable future.”

“Magnus?”

Magnus swallowed thickly and met Alec’s eyes.

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” Alec said. “You really don’t.”

“It’s a beautiful morning, this tea is heavenly, I have you on the line—”

“And you don’t have to pretend that those things make everything okay.”

Magnus nodded. He set his cup down and inhaled a bracing breath. “I still want to see you tonight.”

“Me too. What time and where?”

“Meet me here at seven,” Magnus said. The responding smile on Alec’s lips lessened Magnus’ doubts. He sat up straighter. “I’ve already reserved our spots.”

“Our spots _where_ exactly?” Alec asked.

Magnus smirked. “I’ll see you at seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Have fun at practice today.”

“Jace is on some kind of hockey high.” Alec ruffled his fingers through his mussed hair, an endearing frown pulling at his lips. “I’m sure you’ll have a better day than I will.”

“I’ll enjoy the sunshine for you.”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh….” Alec grinned widely, ducking his head. “I’ll see you later, Magnus.”

“Until then.”

Magnus clicked off the call and sent Imogen a text, resettling into the warmth of the sun instead of readying himself for work.

It was past time that he took a day for himself.

 

****

 

Alec flipped on his blinker, slid his Audi into traffic, and eased back in his seat as he headed for the arena. Early morning sun blazed through the skyline, it was almost June, and he was still playing hockey. It didn’t get much better for a hockey player—unless he had that championship cup in his hands.

He pushed that thought away and refocused on the road.

“You still with me, Iz?” he asked, glancing at his cell.

“I’m here,” Izzy’s voice came through his car’s speakers.

“So you were saying….” Alec smiled. It may have been early, but this conversation was exactly how he wanted to start his workday. “What are the next steps for coming out publicly?”

“Once your contract is finalized, I’m going to start working with the Angels’ PR department officially. There are a few avenues we can pursue—an exclusive interview with a magazine or TV show, social media posts, YouTube…. We’ll need to do an analysis to ensure we hit the right audience first. There may even be a fee paid to you for exclusivity rights, but we won’t know how much until we decide which option will be the most favorable to you.”

Alec shook his head even though Izzy couldn’t see him. “I don’t want to make any money off of this. So you can ignore that consideration.”

“You sure about that, Alec? We could be talking six figures….”

“I’m sure. It’s more important to me that what I have to say is heard by the people who need to hear it.”

“Well, we could always do an old-fashioned press conference—”

“No fucking way,” Alec cut in. “You know me, Iz. When I get too flustered I can’t form a coherent sentence. A press conference would be a fucking nightmare.”

Izzy laughed. “Alright, that option is off the table too. Regardless of how we do it, we need to wait until the finals are over. You’re going to be in the eye of a hurricane once you go public and you need to focus on playing first. Unless….”

She paused, going quiet, and Alec bit down on his lip, determined to wait her out.

They’d spent all last night together at Max’s party, and he’d passed on a hello from Magnus, but he hadn’t told any of them about them getting back together—there was still so much he and Magnus had to talk about and work through. Even more than that, his relationship didn’t belong to his siblings, Jace, Clary, or Simon. He wanted to protect the new boundaries he and Magnus were setting up. They needed space and time to do this right.

As usual, though, his sister had noticed a difference in him. In hindsight, maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to use his coming out plan as a distraction technique. He hadn’t spoken to her about the details in weeks—he hadn’t pressed her at all for it to happen sooner rather than later—but now that he and Magnus were back together and his contract was settled, he didn’t want to wait at all.

“…Unless there’s a reason I should be prepared for you to come out before the finals are over,” Izzy stated, clearly fishing for information.

Alec grinned, then schooled his features—otherwise she’d hear the smile on his face. “Like what?”

“There are…things that can pop up.”

Alec chuckled softly. He had a date with Magnus tonight, and no idea where they were going or what they were doing, but he wasn’t hiding anymore, so Izzy’s contingency plans _could_ come in handy. Clary had been right, he did overthink everything and relied on detailed plans that were executed perfectly, but whatever happened next with Magnus, he just wanted to experience it. To live in the present instead of worrying about the future for once.

“You’re already prepared for that happening, though, right?”

Izzy sighed, her drawn out exhale saying _fine, I give in_ without her saying it at all. “I’ll connect with the Angels’ office later this week.”

“Great,” Alec answered as he pulled up to the security gate for the player’s lot. “Gotta go, I’m at the arena.” The security guard waved him through and Alec pulled into his spot. “Is there something else we need to talk about?”

“Apparently not,” Izzy grumbled. “Just call me when you’re ready to talk.”

“I always do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I promise I will. Right now, though…. I’m good, Iz.” He may have needed some breathing space, but he didn’t want her to worry. “I drove today because I’m going grocery shopping after practice.”

Izzy laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. Have a good day, Alec.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Alec disconnected the call, swiped up his cell and his bag and headed for the arena door. Alec paused as he scanned the parking area and realized the player’s lot was almost full, which meant that Alec was one of the last to arrive—a first for him in, well…ever. But for once he’d slept like the dead and had been happy to spend the time he would’ve been at the arena talking to Magnus instead.

Things weren’t quite right between them yet, but Alec had expected that after their conversation in the park. Just as Magnus had said, there were aftereffects from the last two months that would take time to get over, and some that they’d never be able to fully move past.

But at least they were doing it together.

Alec smiled to himself as he headed into the locker room, then was nearly knocked to the ground as he was trounced on by Jace. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?”

“Good morning to you too,” Alec grumbled half-heartedly just to give his best friend shit.

Alec shrugged out of Jace’s clutches and Jace chuckled. “Whatever. We’re all getting together to watch the game later. You in?”

Alec dropped his duffel in front of his locker. Even if he didn’t have plans tonight, he wouldn’t be watching the western conference finals. But as it stood, he had a much better plan for the night.

He glanced at Jace. “Can’t.”

“Look. I know—”

Alec held up his hand. “Doesn’t have anything to do with…that. I have a date.”

“ _You_ have a date?” Jace burst into laughter, the sound dying away as he scanned Alec’s face. “Wait….” Jace leaned in, jabbing a finger into Alec’s chest. “You got back together with Magnus.”

Alec tried to restrain a grin. Couldn’t.

“What the hell, Alec? Did this happen yesterday? I was with you all last night and you didn’t say anything!”

“It happened before the negotiation. Last night was Max’s night, though, and I guess I also wanted us getting back together to be between the two of us for a bit….” Alec leveled Jace with a look. “Before everyone else starts interfering in our lives again.”

Jace flashed a brilliant smile. “When did we stop?”

Alec scoffed.

“Where’s your bracelet then?” Jace asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he glanced at Alec’s wrist.

Alec shook his head. “Magnus hasn’t given it back to me. He doesn’t know that I know he still has it. And with everything…. I’m not going to push him on it.”

“Alec”—Jace set his hands on Alec’s shoulders, grinning—“you got him back.”

“I know. And I’m not going to fuck it up this time. I have work to do to regain his trust.”

Jace huffed. “That man would walk into hell for you.” Jace patted Alec on the cheek, and Alec could barely hold onto his brooding pout. Jace just smiled serenely and started getting dressed, talking over his shoulder. “Plus, you have lots of time now because of your new contract.”

“Speaking of _that_ ….” Alec dropped onto the bench and rested his elbows on his knees. “Magnus said in my negotiation that if I wasn’t going to be re-signed, you were going to take free agency with me.”

“Yeah. What’s your point?”

Alec gritted his teeth. “Are you fucking kidding me, Jace? You have a life here too! You’re building something with this team.”

“Come on, Alec. Are you really that oblivious?” Alec furrowed his brow and Jace rolled his eyes, plopping down next to Alec. Jace matched Alec’s stance, leaning forward to look Alec in the eye. “None of this means a thing if you aren’t on the ice with me.”

Alec shook his head, smirking. “Stop it. I am not shedding tears over you.”

“Cry it out, bro,” Jace said, bumping his shoulder against Alec’s. “You know you love me.”

“I do, Jace.”

“I love you too, Alec.” Jace’s eyebrows stitched together. “Look. There may be a time when we have to split up, but now isn’t that time.” Jace knocked his fist against Alec’s shoulder. “I’m hoping that won’t be for a very long time.”

Alec bit at his lip and nodded. He did too. “So. Is Magnus telling you anything about your negotiation?”

Jace pushed back up and continued getting dressed. His confident smirk was back in full effect. “Apparently, the new GM is overseeing it.”

Alec had to laugh. “Fuck. Of course she is. So you’ve pretty much settled before they even sit down.”

“Magnus has it under control. I don’t think it’ll be the spectacle yours was.”

“That whole thing was…crazy,” Alec said. If he’d thought there was any chance of Luke answering him, he’d ask what the hell had been happening behind the scenes yesterday, and apparently in the weeks before that. But his Coach had already stuck his neck out enough for Alec. There was no way he was going to ask Luke to reveal front office secrets.

“You still think it was Sebastian that fed the info to Rufus?” Jace asked.

“Who the hell else would it have been?” Alec replied. He pulled off his shoes and started to get undressed. He was way behind his other teammates at getting ready for practice at this point. “I just don’t get why, because we’d already made contact with him.”

“Who the fuck knows what his end game was. He’s in jail, that’s all the matters.”

Jace pulled his helmet on and picked up his gloves, his excitement nearly palpable as his skates turned toward the tunnel as if the ice was magnetized. Alec chuckled.

“Go ahead,” he said, tipping his head toward the rink. “I’ll be out in a few.”

“You sure you don’t want to join us to watch the game?” Jace winked at Alec, then spoke over his shoulder. “Santiago is going to have us over to watch it at his place.”

Raphael didn’t even look up from taping his stick. “That is _not_ happening, Wayland.”

“Oh really? How about a wager?”

“Give it a rest,” Alec chastised him. “We’re practicing for the finals, Captain, not hustling a pool hall. You should take this more seriously.”

Jace just grinned mischievously and hooked his arm around Raphael’s shoulder, whispering in his ear as they clomped off toward the ice.

The locker room swiftly emptying out, Alec got his ass in his gear as quickly as he could. Just as he was pushing up to balance on his skates, Luke passed through his office door.

He stopped mid-stride and nodded at Alec. “Lightwood.”

Alec tipped his chin up. “Coach.”

“Things went well yesterday,” Luke said.

“They did, Coach. Thank you for helping make that happen. I’m, uh….” He passed his stick from hand to hand, trying to stifle the blush he knew was crawling up his neck. “I’m sorry I took off too fast to say that after the negotiation.”

“Had somewhere important to be?”

“Someone important to spend time with,” Alec admitted. “I’m finding my balance.”

Luke smirked. “Any pucks getting past you today?”

“I think I’ve successfully extracted myself from my own way, Coach.”

Luke clapped him on the back. “Good. Let’s hit the ice, son.”

 

****

 

“Setting aside the day after Alec broke up with you,” Ragnor said, speaking to Magnus through the wall between the kitchen and the bathroom, “I’ve never seen you so unprepared to face the world so late into the day. Didn’t you go to work?”

Magnus swiped a brush through his damp hair and frowned.

Catarina had been satisfied with a text that everything yesterday had gone to plan with both the negotiation and Alec, but Ragnor—dubious of Magnus’ vague answers—had insisted on seeing Magnus face-to-face. If all of Magnus’ clients felt this attacked when he showed up instead of sending a simple message, then maybe Magnus needed to reconsider his approach.

“I requested a well-deserved break today,” Magnus snapped as he set down his brush and applied his eyelash primer. “Imogen had _millions_ of reasons to make the decision an easy one.”

“And? How did you exercise your hard-earned freedom?”

“I did nothing.” And he had no idea where the time had gone. Before he’d known it, Ragnor had been knocking on his door and Magnus had looked up at the clock realizing he had less than two hours before Alec arrived.

“Nothing?”

Magnus jumped at Ragnor’s sudden appearance in the doorframe of the bathroom. He glared at Ragnor in the mirror. “I’m allowed.”

“You are,” Ragnor conceded. “You just _don’t_.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be? Raphael does live upstairs.”

Magnus sneered at his reflection. His eyeshadow was going to be uneven if he continued to apply it with this much force.

“Raphael is at a team dinner. Unlike Alec, I presume?”

“I would presume.”

“Magnus,” Ragnor said, exasperated.

“Ragnor,” Magnus replied, dispirited.

“Very well, then. You leave me no choice but to invoke the Five Minute Code.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow at the mention of their pact. “I thought that was solely mine to invoke.”

“I’m acting as your proxy as agreed to in the Bloody Mary Amendment of 2003.”

 _Dammit_. He’d forgotten about that exception. “I only have three opportunities left.”

“You should have negotiated for more than five.”

“We came to this agreement fourteen years ago. I wasn’t an agent yet,” Magnus pointed out. “Regardless of the Bloody Mary Amendment, I’m not giving up any of my chances.”

Ragnor waved that thought away. “I’ll give you this one for free.”

“Do I have veto power so I can choose not to do this at all?”

“Magnus. You know this is more painful for me than it is for you.”

“Granted.” Magnus set down his mascara brush and turned toward Ragnor, crossing his arms. “Okay. Five minutes of complete honesty and no snark, sarcasm, or shit. Your time starts now.”

“It’s _snit_ not shit,” Ragnor said as he tapped on his phone to set the timer. “And you purposefully mangling our sacred covenant is snitty.”

Magnus resisted the urge to push at Ragnor’s limits with a well-placed retort. “My apologies. Time starts now.”

Ragnor jabbed his finger at his screen then lifted his eyes to meet Magnus’. “What are you most afraid of when it comes to Alec?”

Magnus sucked in a breath and dug his fingernails into his arms.

“Complete honesty, my friend.”

Magnus brushed past Ragnor and stalked into the kitchen. His lips remained clamped tight, unwilling to give voice to that answer.

Ragnor trailed behind him, dropping onto one of the barstools. “Very well. I’ll go first. My greatest fear when it comes to my relationship with Raphael is that one day I will want more from him than he is able to give.”

Magnus froze, shocked. “Ragnor—”

Ragnor held up his hand. “It’s what I’m most afraid of, not what I think will happen. Our fears only have power over us when allowed to multiply unchecked. I’m aware of this fear, I deal with it—individually and with Raphael—and I move on.”

“I had no idea….”

“Which is the point of our roughly twice-a-decade frank discussions. Your turn to answer now.”

“Very well,” Magnus said. “There are too many to choose one.”

“I suppose the inherent flaw in the Five Minute Code is that we can’t be honest with each other if we can’t be honest with ourselves.”

Magnus frowned.

“So,” Ragnor continued, “let’s attempt an easier one. Why didn’t you attend Alec’s brother’s party last night?”

That question was just as blunt, and the answer much clearer in his head. Painfully clear, in fact.

Magnus focused on the pile of jewelry in front of him and picked through it, searching for his agate ring and necklace. “I can’t simply forget everything that happened in the last ten days and act as if everything is normal.”

“Normal?” Ragnor scoffed.

Magnus eyed his best friend over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow at Ragnor’s tone.

“That was bordering on snark,” Ragnor admitted in response to Magnus’ silent chastisement. “My point is the same regardless—there has been nothing normal with your and Alec’s relationship…until now. My impetuously skittish friend, these growing pains are normal. They mean the relationship is real.”

Magnus slid on his ring, and clasped his necklace around his throat, thinking. “I suppose you would know.”

“Better than most.” Ragnor leaned forward, steepling his fingers together. “If your fears are too numerous to count, then why continue on with him at all?”

That answer was just as clear to him. “Why do you continue on with Raphael?”

Ragnor nodded in understanding. “Love can be overpowering.”

Magnus sighed. “Maybe I’m rushing back into this, though.”

“You are an affectionate person who revels in conversation. Going out with him tonight— _talking_ with him—is exactly what you need to be doing.”

Magnus felt a smile tugging at his lips. “It is, isn’t it?”

“As separate as Raphael’s and my lives are is how entwined yours and Alec’s are—and will continue to be. We do what works best for us, and we shouldn’t have to explain to anyone else what constitutes our own happiness.”

“ _Are_ you happy, Ragnor?”

Ragnor furrowed his brow, frowned ferociously, and crossed his arms. “What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”

Magnus chuckled and patted Ragnor’s shoulder. “Absolutely nothing.”

There was a knock on the door and Magnus glanced at the clock—6:57 pm. He took a deep breath, not realizing he was drumming his fingers against the counter until Ragnor’s hand settled over his.

“He has a key,” Ragnor said, “but I’m guessing he wants you to choose to let him in.”

“That metaphor isn’t cliché at all,” Magnus replied.

“And _that_ was sarcasm.” Ragnor tapped on the screen of his phone. “Our time is not quite done yet.”

Magnus restrained rolling his eyes. Barely. He swallowed and watched the seconds on the timer ticking down closer to zero. He met Ragnor’s eyes. “I’m doing the right thing here?”

Ragnor nodded. “You are.”

Magnus crossed the room, shaking his bracelets down his wrists and shaking his tension away, then swept the door open. “Alexander.”

Alec stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the corners of his lips tipping into a gentle smile when he met Magnus’ eyes. “Hey.”

Magnus’ heart dashed madly.

Having Alec here _was_ the right thing.

“Please, come inside.” On the kitchen counter, Ragnor’s timer chirped the end of its countdown, and Magnus glared at Ragnor. “Ragnor was just leaving.”

Ragnor swiped up his phone. “Apparently I was just leaving.”

“That is what I said.”

Now free of the Five Minute Code, Ragnor heartily scoffed.

Alec shuffled inside and Magnus remained at the door, holding it open for Ragnor, who was currently eyeing Alec. “Lightwood.”

Alec’s lip twitched. “Fell.”

Ragnor narrowed his eyes at Alec.

Alec lifted an eyebrow.

Ragnor gave Alec a clipped nod. “I’m glad we have an understanding.”

Magnus huffed and circled his arm around Ragnor’s shoulders, guiding him out the door. But Ragnor stopped just shy of the hallway, leaning in so only Magnus would hear him. “That feeling you got here”—Ragnor pointed at Magnus’ chest—“when you opened the door and saw him…? Fear dispels under the strength of it. If you allow it to.”

Magnus softened his hold on Ragnor. “Goodnight, Ragnor.”

Ragnor twisted on his heel and bowed as he backed into the hallway. “Have a good evening, gentlemen.”

Alec stuffed one of his hands in his pocket and waved the other one toward the door. “Is he always so…?”

“It doesn’t matter how you finish that sentence, the answer is yes.” Magnus held up a finger and headed for the bathroom. “Give me a moment to finish getting ready. Ragnor delayed me.”

“You, uh…. You look great,” Alec called out. “You look great already.”

Magnus popped his head out the door and took his time running his eyes over Alec’s tight black tee and worn jeans, fitted in all the right places. His gaze lingered on Alec’s reddened lips, as if he’d been worrying them between his teeth. “Thank you, Alexander. So do you.” Even Alec’s substantial playoff beard wasn’t thick enough to hide the beginnings of his blush. Magnus smiled. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Sequestered inside his bathroom, Magnus took his time finishing getting ready, consciously applying his final layers of makeup with the intent of accentuating, not masking. He undid another button on his shirt and swiped a brush along his pecs to add just a touch of shine to his chest, then swept his dried hair up, styling it into place.

He stepped back from the mirror, and surveyed each detail of his ensemble with a critical eye, his lips tilting into a smile as he realized that Alec became just as flustered by him when he was wearing an Angels tee and had no makeup on.

His _boyfriend_ Alec. Whom Magnus was going on a date with.

My god, how long had it been since something so ordinary felt this…exciting?

Magnus snatched his ear cuff out of the bowl by the sink and rolled his sleeves up, ready to join Alec. He crossed into the kitchen where Alec was standing next to the island with two glasses in front of him, typing on his cell.

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus said as he picked up a glass. He clinked the edge of his against Alec’s.

Alec set his cell aside and his gaze locked to Magnus’, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “You’re welcome.” He sipped at his drink, then pointed at the wrapped package on the counter. “So, are we going to a party?”

“That”—Magnus tapped the package once with a black-lacquered nail—“is a birthday present for Max’s leg.”

Alec studied it intently, but didn’t ask anything else.

Magnus set his glass down and tipped his head to affix his ear cuff. “You were the kid who shook the presents under the Christmas tree when no one was looking, weren’t you?”

Alec smirked.

“It’s a glass beer mug in the shape of a boot,” Magnus confessed.

Alec groaned. “Oh my god. It’s not.”

“It is.”

Alec chuckled. “He’ll love it.”

“I hope so. I haven’t seen or heard from him today.”

“He was plastered last night,” Alec said. “I set him up on the futon in his workshop before I left. He’s probably just dragging himself off it.”

“Since I haven’t been inundated with texts, am I to assume he doesn’t know about us yet?”

A shy smile spread across Alec’s face at that. “Jace is the only one I told. I wanted it to be you and me before all of them just”—Alec swished his hand through the air in a vague direction.

Magnus nodded in understanding. Their friends and family seemed to be overly…zealous when it came to their relationship. It was nice to think he would have Alec all to himself tonight. “I haven’t said anything to Clary either.”

“But I think they all know anyway,” Alec admitted. “I kept getting these looks from Izzy, Max, and Clary anytime I talked about you and the negotiation.”

“You have a horrible poker face, Alexander.”

Alec shrugged. “I was born this way.”

“Did you…?” Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Did you just make a Lady Gaga pun?”

Alec ran a hand over his beard, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk. “Maybe.”

Well. Wasn’t that just a lovely development?

Magnus patted his chest. “Don’t worry. You can let your inner diva out with me.”

Alec chuckled, but Magnus noted the set of his shoulders hadn’t eased since he’d stepped inside the loft. Magnus’ own anxiousness ticked down with the realization that Alec was just as nervous as he was. Of course they both were—this was the first time they’d been in the loft together since the night Magnus had said they were over.

Magnus sat down and pushed the chair next to him out for Alec. “How was practice?”

Alec exhaled and sat down. “Same as usual—sweaty, tiring.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Alec leaned forward, his mouth opening, then closing as his eyebrows stitched together. He scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Look, Magnus. About this morning….”

Magnus sighed. “Talking with each other isn’t as easy because of how much we still haven’t discussed.”

Alec nodded. “Yeah. That.”

“We’re not going to get everything out in one conversation or one night,” Magnus said, trying to internalize that reality as much as he hoped Alec would. He gripped Alec’s hand. “Just know that I’m glad you’re here.”

Alec held tighter to Magnus. “Can I…? Fuck. I really want to kiss you, but I don’t know—”

“Alexander. The answer will always be yes.”

Alec leaned forward and pressed his lips to Magnus’, his calloused fingers scratching against Magnus’ skin as he circled his hand around the back of Magnus’ neck and drew him closer. Magnus smiled against Alec’s lips. This type of communication was still comfortable—familiar. He opened for Alec, swiping his tongue once against Alec’s in a soft brush that made his heart thunder in his chest.

Alec’s eyes remained closed for a breath as he drew back. “Okay, _that’s_ just as good.”

Magnus brushed his thumb over his bottom lip. “Maybe even better now.”

“Definitely.” Alec leaned back in his chair and gestured at the counter. “So the big box is for Max, but does the other one have something to do with what we’re doing tonight?”

Magnus shook his head. Earlier today, he hadn’t been sure he was going to give this gift to Alec at all. “That is for you. I ordered it weeks ago, but it didn’t arrive until the night…. The night you were last here.” Alec winced, but Magnus reached for the white box undeterred and set it in front of Alec. “Please, open it.”

Alec flipped the lid open and pulled out the stone, curling it into the palm of his hand.

“It’s called pietersite, or the tempest stone,” Magnus explained. “It’s meant to ease and inspire change. Evidently, I needed it more than you did at the time, but I’m hoping it can help both of us now.”

Alec’s brow creased as he studied it. “It _feels_ powerful.”

Magnus knew. “It’s strange how otherwise inanimate objects can do that.”

Alec’s Adam’s apple moved with a thick swallow. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. You’re up—”

“None of that anymore,” Magnus gently cut in, his eyes locking on Alec’s. “Isabelle told me that you had a blackboard where you were tallying our gift count…. But with everything we’ve fought through to get to this point, I think we should try to restart on even ground.”

Alec’s hazel eyes bored into him. “It’s not that simple, Magnus.”

“It’s not,” Magnus admitted. He’d told Izzy the same thing. That he and Alec couldn’t start fresh—that there would always be marks left behind—but he was beginning to think that those marks could help define them. He relaxed, even more resolute with his next course of action when he knew Alec didn’t expect things between them to just go back to how they’d been before. “We’ll work toward that point.”

“Okay. We can do that. We’re, uh…. That’s what tonight is about, right?”

“It is, but….”

Alec frowned. “But?”

“But your boyfriend happens to be an agent….” That earned a smile from Alec that had Magnus’ stomach swooping pleasantly. “And I have two conditions I’d like to negotiate before we start our night.”

“Shit.” Alec chuckled. “I have no chance against you in a negotiation.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “It’s possible my stipulations will be mutually beneficial.”

“Alright. Let me hear your terms.”

“I’ve been told the zamboni room is particularly cold during the finals in order to preserve the perfect temperature for the ice. So I’ll need something to keep me warm. Preferably well-worn and with the number eighty-nine on the back.”

“Okay. Yeah. I think I can help you with that.” Alec scratched his left hand through his beard, and Magnus tracked the movement, hopeful. “And the second condition?”

Magnus’ heartbeat sped as he reached into the bowl of jewelry on his counter and pulled out the feather bracelet. “I hope you’ll consider wearing this again. When you’re ready.”

 

****

 

Alec swore his heart stopped the moment he caught sight of that bracelet. He couldn’t look away from Magnus’ eyes even as he reached for it. Even as his vision began to blur.

“Taking this off—” Alec sucked in a breath, trying to steady himself. “I felt like I was coming apart.” The weight of the bracelet in his hands made him feel balanced and whole for the first time in ten days, but it was the warmth in Magnus’ eyes that grounded him—that made him steadier than breath, muscles, or sheer force of will ever could. He slid the bracelet on his wrist, and the chill of the silver began to fade against his skin. “Thank you for keeping it.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Fuck, Magnus. I would never—” Alec cut himself off, gritting his teeth.

He could insist that he would never let Magnus go—could repeat over and over again that he was sorry—but it was his actions that had spoken the loudest when he’d walked away from Magnus. Alec swallowed roughly and propelled himself into Magnus’ arms like the man was on fire and needed to be smothered. Magnus grabbed onto his hips, a surprised laugh slipping out of his lips. Alec placed a soft kiss on Magnus’ neck, breathed him in, and sagged into Magnus, relief flooding through him when Magnus’ arms circled fully around him, holding him tight. They’d spent so much time over the last two months strategizing and ticking off boxes on a chaotic to-do list, and now, he and Magnus could just…breathe. Together.

“I’m ruining your flawless aesthetic again,” Alec mumbled into Magnus’ skin.

The low timbre of Magnus’ laugh rolled through him with how closely they were pressed together. “I don’t care.”

Alec relinquished his hold on Magnus, dragging his hands to Magnus’ shoulders and holding himself there as his gaze darted to Magnus’ lips.

Magnus arched an eyebrow. His fingertips sought out Alec’s skin below Alec’s t-shirt. “The answer is always yes.”

So Alec kissed him breathless.

“I could really keep doing this all night,” Alec said when he reluctantly pulled away. “But I want to go out with you. We’ve never been out in public on a date…. And I just really want to do _that_. But I shouldn’t assume that’s what you were planning either, and if you aren’t comfortable—”

“Alexander?”

“Yes, Magnus?”

“Would you like to go out-out with me now?”

Alec grinned. “Yeah.”

“Good.” This time, it was Magnus who leaned forward to place a kiss on Alec’s lips and Alec was sure he wouldn’t stop smiling all night. “I was considering where to take you when I remembered Tarasov’s quote that a hockey player must have ‘the wisdom of a chess player, the accuracy of a sniper, and the rhythm of a musician. Above all, he must be a superb athlete.’” Magnus smiled. “We danced together in LA, so I already know you have the rhythm of a musician. You’re headed to the finals, therefore a superb athlete. And you chose to keep me around, so you must be wise. Your Russian mentor has only one condition that seems to be unmet.”

“‘The accuracy of a sniper?’” Alec quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve never shot a gun. I don’t know if I’d even want to.”

“Not my preference either, darling, so we’re going to learn archery.”

“Archery?”

“Bow and arrow. Although, in our case, I don’t know if they allow beginners to shoot actual pointy things.”

“There’s somewhere around here where we can do that?”

“This is New York. Every wish can be fulfilled as long as you wander around the right corner, slip down a promising alley…or consult Google.”

Alec didn’t care where they went. His blood was thrumming like it did just before he took to the ice. He clasped Magnus’ hand and pulled him up. “Let’s go.”

 

****

 

“When you said ‘slip down an alley’ you meant an actual alley, huh?” Alec asked as he glanced out the cab’s window at the front of a yellow brick warehouse. Delivery trucks and vans lined the street, and pallets were piled high around garage door entrances.

Magnus leaned in close to him, surveying the façade with a keen eye. “It certainly is…industrial.” Alec grinned and pulled out his wallet to pay for the cab, but Magnus’ hand was on his arm in a flash. “I’m taking _you_ out, Alexander.”

Alec squeezed Magnus’ thigh, then got out of the cab, holding the door for Magnus while he paid.

Magnus stepped out beside him, a smirk on his lips as he met Alec’s eyes. “Are you ready?”

He was hyper-aware of Magnus’ word choice and movements—of the subtle layers of communication Magnus used to convey what he was thinking and how he was really feeling. And while anyone else may have been fooled by Magnus’ outward show of confidence, Alec wasn’t.

Magnus worried his necklaces between his fingers. There was a distinct tightness to his jawline.

He wanted to set Magnus at ease.

He toyed with his cell in his pocket, and turned toward Magnus. “Picture first?”

“How unlike you, Alexander,” Magnus said, a smile inching up his lips. “I approve.”

“I like to surprise you,” Alec said. He leaned in to kiss Magnus on the cheek just as Magnus was snapping off a shot of the two of them and Magnus’ ragged inhalation in response pulled a laugh from Alec. He shrugged. “Maybe I like to surprise myself too.”

“Well then,” Magnus said, his eyes bright in the cast of the sun tipping toward the western horizon. “Let’s see what other delights await us tonight.”

Alec grinned and gestured for Magnus to go first.

Magnus led them inside the building and checked them in, Alec standing back to take a moment to appreciate the lines of Magnus’ shoulders, back, and arms in the fitted black and red shirt he’d chosen for tonight.

“Oh my god,” someone squeaked behind him. “You’re Alec Lightwood.”

Alec reluctantly ended his visual appreciation of Magnus and turned, finding a young woman with an angelic face and the curls to match, staring at him wide-eyed.

Alec stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Hi.”

She squeaked again and nudged the woman with short black hair standing next to her. The other woman turned away from her observation of the archery course with her lips tugged into a frown until her gaze landed on Alec. Her mouth dropped open into an exaggerated ‘o’ and she screamed, pointing. “Lightwood! Eighty-nine! Angels!”

Alec had no chance of holding back his blush. He scratched at his beard. “Yeah, that’s, uh…me.”

Every eye in the range was now trained in their direction, and Alec felt a deep sympathy for the bullseyes at the center of each target. Magnus—confidently in control, as always—elegantly swiveled on his heel to watch the scene in front of him unfold, amused.

The woman stepped forward, gesturing between her and the younger woman. “I’m Jackie and this is my daughter, Mathilde. We’re _huge_ fans. Can I touch your beard?”

Alec’s eyebrows shot up.

“Mom!”

Jackie shrugged as she looked at her daughter. “You know you want to too.” Mathilde flushed crimson and put her face in her hands, but Jackie turned back to him, undeterred. “If you have superstitions about it, I get it. But, yeah, that beard….” Jackie clutched her hands over heart and legitimately swooned.

Alec glanced at Magnus, who merely arched an eyebrow, but his lips were pressed together in a severely restrained smile.

Alec nervously shifted on his feet. “Um, sure?”

Jackie brushed her fingers over his beard, sighing. “It’s even softer than I thought it would be.”

“Indeed,” Magnus whispered next to him.

Alec eyed him and had to clench his jaw to hold back a smile.

Jackie peered up at him, expectant. “Can I hug you too?”

Alec chuckled. That request was much more along the lines he was used to. “Yeah. Sure.” Alec waved toward Mathilde. “You too? We can take a picture if you want.”

They squeezed in on either side of him and Alec wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders, holding out Mathilde’s cell then Jackie’s so he could get the three of them in the frame.

When Jackie and Mathilde were both examining their photos, Alec looked to Magnus. “Are we all set?”

Magnus nodded. “Whenever you are.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Jackie apologized, her eyes darting between Magnus and Alec. “I didn’t even think about you being here with someone! We completely interrupted you.”

 _With someone_.

The phrase coiled around him pleasantly. Fuck, he’d regressed at least twelve years, and he was blushing like a teenager, excited about the simple prospect of his identity being coupled with another person’s. “Mathilde and Jackie, this is Magnus. He used to be my agent, but now….” Alec smirked. “Apparently he’s making me a better hockey player by teaching me archery.”

Magnus stepped forward and shook both their hands. “I like to consider myself Alec’s biggest fan, but I think you two may have me beat.”

Alec ducked his head, just as he probably would at _any_ age for the rest of his life. Flattery wasn’t easy for him to accept, and coming from Magnus it made his knees weak.

“You’re really handsome, Magnus,” Mathilde blurted out, immediately clapping her hands over her mouth.

Alec couldn’t argue that.

Magnus’ lips lifted into a slow grin. “Thank you, darling.”

“Sounds like _your_ biggest fan may have some competition as well,” Alec deadpanned.

Magnus arched an eyebrow in response.

“Could I take a picture of the two of you with Mathilde?” Jackie asked, oblivious to their flirtation. “I’m sure she doesn’t want her mom in every picture.”

Magnus nodded and Mathilde set herself between Magnus and Alec. It wasn’t Alec’s fault that since she was so much shorter than him that it made sense for his hand to settle on Magnus’ nape, precisely where he could brush the hairs there with his thumb.

Magnus’ fingers dug into Alec’s shoulder, and the smile Jackie likely caught in her lens was unguardedly genuine.

Then Magnus peered down at Mathilde. “How about one with Alec and I kissing your cheeks?”

“Oh my god,” Mathilde breathed out. “Okay.”

Magnus winked at Alec and Alec laughed. “You are such a flirt.”

Magnus peered down at Mathilde. “My reputation precedes me.”

“I don’t mind,” Mathilde said.

Alec chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to Mathilde’s cheek at the same time as Magnus.

“Now, dear,” Magnus said as he stood, his hand resting on her forearm companionably. “Even though I’m not Alec’s agent anymore, I would be remiss if I didn’t request for you to please refrain from posting any pictures to social media for a few hours so Alec can have a quiet evening.”

“That’s no problem. Thank you so much.”

“Thank _you_. It was lovely to meet you and your mother.”

Mathilde waved her mother over and the pair started for the door. As they walked away, Alec heard Jackie mumble to her daughter, “I’m never taking this shirt off.”

“You’re going to have to,” Mathilde said, holding up her cell. “I already have the address pulled up for a twenty-four-hour frame shop.”

Alec chuckled.

“Does that happen often?” Magnus asked as he watched them disappear onto the street.

Alec shook his head. “It didn’t used to. Definitely more lately.”

“It’s a good thing for you that I’m always camera-ready.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “I get the feeling you were born camera-ready.”

Magnus brushed his fingertips over Alec’s shirt. “Now who’s the flirt, Alexander?”

“Are you all set, guys?” one of the staff members asked. “I can get you started over here.”

The instructor ran through the basics of the gear, the different arrows they could try and distances they could shoot at, but he was definitely paying more attention to their briefing than Magnus was. Magnus’ eyes were trained solely on him as he slid his bracelet down his wrist and strapped his forearm guard on, then circled a quiver around his hips.

When the instructor excused himself to help some other customers, Alec pounced on his advantage and leaned in close to Magnus. “You seem distracted, Bane. It’s going to be easy to beat you.”

“I thought we weren’t keeping score anymore?”

“For things like this?” Alec picked up the bow, flexing his fingers around the grip. “I’m always keeping score.”

Magnus’ throat bobbed with a thick swallow. “You are an athlete to the core.”

“I don’t think I’m the only one who’s competitive.”

“Name your stakes, Lightwood.”

Alec chuckled.

Magnus cocked his head, smiling. “What are you laughing at?”

“It’s just that…. Jace tried to do the same thing this morning with one of the other players and I told him to take the game more seriously.”

“And now?”

“It’s not the same. _I_ take all competition seriously.”

“As do I. I’m rather fond of winning.”

“You remember that time you challenged me to ‘bring it’ and ended up covered in gin?”

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t read all the terms and conditions in the waiver we signed, but I’m guessing they frown upon mixing alcohol and lethal projectiles.”

“Which is why we should take this seriously.” Alec rolled his shoulders and craned his neck from side to side. The bow felt natural in his hand. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some healthy competition.”

“It’s likely that any bet we made would end up benefitting both of us in the end.”

Alec’s heated gaze raked over Magnus, a smirk tilting up his lips. “Then it doesn’t matter who wins, right?”

 

****

 

“Archery is a skill that takes years to master, Alexander,” Magnus said as they exited Gotham Archery. Alec’s shoulders slumped in reply, a frown tugging at his lips. Magnus stifled a smile as he caught Alec’s eye. “And it didn’t matter who won, right?”

Alec glared at him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Losing is not a state you’re familiar with.”

“Not lately, no.” Alec dragged his hand through his hair and gestured at the street. “So, since you won…. Where are you taking me next?”

“We”—Magnus paused to allow Alec time to consider all the possibilities—“are going for a walk.”

Alec tilted his head, confused. “To where, exactly?”

Magnus shrugged. “I don’t have a specific destination. Let’s just walk.”

Magnus set down the sidewalk and Alec broadened his stride to catch up. “Just…walk?”

“It is a lovely night.”

Alec’s forehead etched into a deep crease and he only made it a few more steps in silence before he was glancing at Magnus again. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? We could stop somewhere, or—”

Magnus laughed softly. “You’ve overthinking, Alexander.”

“Right. We’re walking.”

“We are.”

Magnus catalogued Alec’s demeanor as they made their way down the sidewalk, his lips moving and features subtly shifting, as if he was having a silent conversation with himself. He ran his hand over his beard, eyes darting over the buildings and people. His throat moved and his lips opened, but no words came out. Then, seemingly coming to some decision, the set of Alec’s shoulders eased and Alec simply reached out—slipping his hand into Magnus’.

Magnus’ stomach tumbled as he pulled Alec closer to him so their shoulders brushed, and when he glanced at Alec, there was a distinct half smirk lighting up his face.

Magnus tamped down his own urge to overthink. Alec knew the risks. He just…didn’t seem to care anymore. And with every step they took, Alec’s hand in his, Magnus’ heart healed a bit more.

Every now and then, Magnus would stop to take a picture of something that caught his attention—colorful graffiti, a sign with an unintended innuendo—and Alec would snap off a few photos too, then his hand would find Magnus’ again. The city sped on around them, and a synchronous quiet wove between them. There were so many things they could have talked about—and needed to talk about—but this was slow. Comfortable. They didn’t need a plan or a destination….

Magnus gripped Alec’s hand tighter. Apparently, all they needed was each other.

When they came around a corner, Alec glanced up at the street signs and pulled Magnus to a sudden stop. “I didn’t realize we were this close to your place.”

“You could catch an Uber here….” Magnus noted.

Alec looked away, pursing his lips. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Or”—Magnus ran his thumb lightly over the inside of Alec’s wrist—“you could come back to my place and I could cook dinner for you.”

“We _are_ only three blocks away from your loft.”

“It is convenient.”

Alec scratched at his beard, smiling. “A convenient coincidence?”

“I don’t leave anything up to chance,” Magnus admitted. “But I do allow for freedom of choice.”

“As if taking off now is an actual choice.” Alec tugged on Magnus’ hand and steered them toward Magnus’ loft, not breaking his gentle hold on Magnus’ hand even when they pushed through the security doors and passed by Danny with greetings and a wave. When Danny’s jaw dropped, Magnus’ confidence soared.

Ragnor was proving to be right on an annoyingly regular basis and Magnus couldn’t have been happier—this was exactly what he and Alec needed to be doing.

“What are you hungry for?” Magnus asked, now energized, as he flitted into the kitchen.

“Whatever you want to make.”

Alec sprawled out on the couch, scratching at the back of his neck while he held his cell with the other hand, the hem of his shirt lifting to provide a tantalizing glimpse of skin. Heat pooled in Magnus’ stomach at the sight.

“Will you text me that pic you took of me, Magnus?”

Magnus lifted his gaze to Alec’s eyes with that question, only to find he’d been caught leering and Alec was grinning at him. The Chairman jumped onto Alec’s belly, curling in, and Alec shrugged. “Sorry, looks like your cat already claimed that territory.”

Magnus glared at his cat—although, really, he could find no fault in his actions—and picked up his phone to flip through his pictures. Instead he was waylaid by a text notification from Raphael— _Wayland said Alec is on a date right now_

Magnus scowled at his phone and typed back a succinct— _?_

_Is he at your place?_

_Again, I say… ?_

Magnus watched the bubbles pop up on the screen, then the reply from Raphael came through— _I’m about to walk into our building with half the Angels_

Magnus rested his elbows on the counter and glanced at Alec, who was still glued to his own cell, one hand absently petting at Chairman. Magnus ran his thumb over his finger, thinking. _I suppose that means the embargo on not telling Alec has been lifted?_

_I’m calling the GM tomorrow and begging to be traded_

Magnus chuckled softly. _That wasn’t an answer, Santiago_

_It’s not like I have a choice now_

_Still not an answer_

_How’s this for an answer, Bane. Why don’t you bring him up? I’m sure everyone would love to meet you_

“Did you know you live in the same building as Raphael Santiago from the team?” Alec said.

Magnus crossed the room and sat down next to Alec. “I do.” He handed his cell to Alec so he could read the stream of messages between he and Raphael.

“‘Not telling Alec…?’” Alec caught eyes with him. “You know him?”

Magnus drew one of his necklaces between his fingers, fidgeting with it. “Almost as long as I’ve known Cat and Ragnor.”

Alec narrowed his left eye. “That’s almost twenty years, but you never—”

“I never told you,” Magnus finished for him. “Raphael requested that I maintain the boundaries that separate his personal and professional lives. I hadn’t even spoken to him about you and me until a few days ago.”

“Wait.” Alec sat up suddenly, sending Chairman flying off him in search of a more stable surface.

Magnus’ stomach twisted. While he’d maintained the privacy both Raphael and Alec had sought, he couldn’t deny that this was a major part of his life that he’d kept from Alec. He had no idea how Alec would respond.

Alec’s eyes darted over him, then a wide grin broke out on his face. “Holy shit. Raphael is your _friend_!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Magnus scoffed.

“I know that look,” Alec said, laughing. “It’s the same one you have when you’re giving Max shit.”

“This building is getting too crowded,” Magnus mumbled, and that made Alec laugh even harder. “What is there to laugh about here?”

Alec handed Magnus’ cell back to him and leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “I’ve always wondered what kind of people Raphael spends his time with off the ice, but after reading your texts…. The two of you as friends makes so much sense.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “He’s really Ragnor’s friend more than mine.”

Alec chuckled. “ _That_ makes even more sense.”

“I assume Jace is with Raphael then? And he texted you?”

Alec nodded. “He wanted to give me a heads up since they’re all headed here.”

“I’m guessing this wasn’t Raphael’s choice. He guards the privacy of his home quite fiercely.”

“That bet Jace was trying to make happen at practice that I told you about? Raphael lost.” Alec flipped his phone in his hand, his brow furrowing. “Jace said Bosch’s wife and Mantas’ girlfriend are with them too, so it isn’t just the team…. Do you think we should go?”

Magnus’ eyebrows shot up. “You want to go to Raphael’s? With me?”

“Yeah…. I think I want to. Do you?”

Magnus more than appreciated the sentiment—it was overwhelming. He’d met most of the Angels the night of the celebration at IE after their conference finals win, however he’d been in a very different mindset then and all of them had met him as an agent, not as their goalie’s boyfriend. Magnus understood the potential fragility of the situation they’d be walking into in a way that Alec—still freshly out and testing his new boundaries—wouldn’t.

And even more than that, he was painfully aware that his own particular persona could be…off-putting for some. A potentially ruinous collision of two drastically different worlds.

He and Alec had consciously chosen to get back together knowing their differences, and this would be a first real test of that. He didn’t quite know how to articulate that, though, without dampening the spark in Alec’s eyes.

Magnus cleared his throat. “Your teammates have been outstanding in their support of you so far, but showing up with me is very different than a theoretical _I date men_.”

“I know,” Alec said, his voice clear. Sure. “Will you go with me?”

Magnus couldn’t say no.

 

****

 

“He has his own elevator?” Alec asked as he stood in front of the private entrance with his hands clasped behind his back.

“He paid well for the convenience,” Magnus said, flashing his keycard in front of the lock for the penthouse elevator and sweeping his hand for Alec to enter first as the doors slid open. “As I said, Raphael values his privacy.”

Alec stepped inside, surveying the polished wood and silver interior. “I could use one of these.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’ve signed more than a few autographs in the elevator in my building,” Alec explained. He shook his head and leaned a shoulder against the elevator wall. “And I fully expect it to be more with the finals starting soon.”

Magnus switched his host gift of a bottle of tequila from one arm to the other and pressed the penthouse button on the elevator panel. “You are going to be even more in the spotlight.”

“I’ll be ready for it.”

Magnus noted the future tense of that statement, but didn’t ask more. How Alec got into his headspace for a game or a series was still somewhat of a mystery to Magnus. So much so that he and Alec hadn’t spoken at all about the Angels’ potential foes in the final round. The finals was virtually a new season unto itself, yet nearly every analysis he’d read favored the Angels regardless of their opponent. Watching Nashville and Dallas face off tonight was the reason for the team’s impromptu gathering at Raphael’s loft—and Magnus didn’t have a strong preference either way—but he wasn’t sure where Alec stood even though it seemed like every hockey reporter in the country had tried to ply that answer from him.

“Who are we rooting for anyway?” Magnus asked as the elevator slid into motion. “The Predators’ logo is kitschy, with an appealing 80s retro-vibe. I like it.”

Alec’s eyes darted over Magnus’ face. “But Nashville…?”

“It’s a lovely town,” Magnus offered. “There are plenty of attractions to occupy you on a road trip.”

Alec clenched his jaw. “Fuck.”

Magnus locked his eyes to Alec’s. “What is it?”

“Nashville, Magnus. Didn’t anyone—”

The doors slid open to Raphael, stationed in front of the elevator with his arms crossed. “Bane.”

“Santiago,” Magnus acknowledged as he swept into the penthouse ahead of Alec. He had no choice but to enter into this testosterone den with complete confidence, despite the feeling that Alec had been about to tell him something important. His defensive snark kicked in immediately. “Have you met Alexander Lightwood? I think you two may have a few things in common.”

“Thanks for inviting us up,” Alec said to Raphael, his hands jammed in his pockets as he surveyed the room.

Raphael sneered. “Thank Wayland.”

“Lightwood!” someone called out from across the room. “Come see this. Dallas is already up by four!”

Alec’s jaw dropped and a slow smile spread across his face—all unease that had been there only seconds ago completely wiped away. He took a step in the direction of the living room, then abruptly pivoted, facing Magnus. “Do you want…?”

Magnus shooed him away. “Go have fun. Raphael will ensure I don’t get into too much trouble.”

“We’ll talk later. About….” Alec scratched at his beard and his gaze flicked to Raphael, who wasn’t bothering to hide that he was listening in. “About the thing. From before.”

Magnus had only a vague idea that “the thing” involved Nashville, but the particulars didn’t seem to be worrying Alec anymore. He nodded.

Alec clasped his hand quickly, then headed for the living room, his focus on the TV even as he was embraced by his teammates. Alec’s smile only increased as banter picked up over flights, time zones, and the state of the visiting team’s locker room in Dallas.

“Still complicated?” Raphael asked.

“Only if I allow it to be.” Magnus handed over the bottle of tequila to Raphael. “For sipping, not for shots.”

“Do I look like a barbarian?”

“There _are_ quite a few hairy men in here, Raphael.”

Raphael scoffed and headed for the kitchen.

Across the room, Alec caught Magnus’ eye and motioned to the bar, silently asking if Magnus wanted anything. Magnus nodded and pointed toward the kitchen, noting that a few of the players were watching their non-verbal conversation. Raphael’s apartment was nearly bursting at the seams with muscle-bound men with facial hair—a scene Magnus was much more used to in leather daddy clubs—but the glances sent his way were more inquisitive than judgmental.

“I thought you said this was half the team?” Magnus asked Raphael as he came to the counter, watching Raphael cook.

“Half. All. It doesn’t matter—it’s too many.” Raphael grimaced and pointed at a player opening a jar of store-bought, electric orange colored queso on the other side of the island. “If you dare open that in my home I will saw your fingers off one at a time with a rusty skate.”

The player faced his palms toward Raphael in surrender and backed away slowly.

Raphael rolled his sleeves up and nodded at the player. “I have pots of manchego melting in the oven.”

Magnus smirked.

“Hey,” Alec said as he appeared next to Magnus, handing him a glass tumbler with amber liquid.

Magnus sniffed at the drink and frowned at Raphael. “Are you stocking your open bar with the Eagle Rare I got you for your birthday?”

“What if I did?” Raphael said with a shrug. “Vintage collections are meant to be savored, no?” He swept the chicken he’d been shredding into a bowl and poured a sauce over the top, combining them together with deft ease. “And not left to linger on the shelf unappreciated?”

Magnus sniffed, affronted. “You pay too much attention to what I say.”

“If you said less, I’d have less to pay attention to,” Raphael retorted. He glanced over his shoulder at the hiss of steam pushing out from under a lid.

Before Raphael could bother to tell him no, Magnus was at the sink washing his hands. “I’ll add in the peppers, you check on whatever delicacies you’re concocting over there.”

Raphael tossed a towel over his shoulder and surrendered the bowl to Magnus, heading for the stovetop where each burner was occupied with a different sizzling, fragrant dish.

Alec tapped his fingers against the counter and laughed softly. “Just a normal Tuesday night for you two, huh?”

Magnus shouldn’t have felt the surge of emotion he did with that, but it was nice to be able to share this part of his life with Alec fully. “Minus all the professional athletes, yes. It actually is.”

Alec settled into the seat across from him, alternately watching Magnus and Raphael, then the game, and chatting with his teammates that came by to swipe up appetizers as the counter steadily filled. Alec introduced each of them to Magnus, leaving their status unsaid, yet clearly implied as Alec caught his eye each time and smiled, a simple uptick of his lips that conveyed layers of meaning and intention that didn’t need to be verbalized. An unsubtle message of warmth and ease that reminded Magnus he didn’t always need to be so much of a fatalist. Alec was just as softly affectionate with him as he’d ever been in private, and every player who shook hands with him was friendly.

By the time the preparation of most of Raphael’s dishes was under control, Magnus was pleasantly plied with the richness of the seventeen-year-old bourbon and Alec had settled back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, resting a bottle of beer on his stomach.

Magnus soaped up his hands under the sink again. “You’re sure there’s nothing else you need help with, Raphael?”

Raphael shook his head as he settled the pots of manchego on the granite and stirred them, bringing the chorizo and shrimp to the surface.

“You know where Jace is?” Alec asked. “I haven’t seen him all night.”

Distracted by the steaming pots in front of him, Raphael merely pointed up.

“I believe he means the terrace,” Magnus explained. When his hands were dry, he lifted his drink and cocked his head toward the stairs. “I’ll show you.”

Magnus led Alec up the spiral staircase and into Raphael’s bedroom, where Alec stopped in his tracks.

“Holy shit,” Alec whispered.

Magnus’d had the same reaction the first time he’d set foot in this penthouse, even before it had been Raphael’s. On the other side of the glass doors, the lights on the balcony sparkled against the backdrop of the bridge and the city. “He has an almost three-hundred-sixty degree view out there. I love it here.”

Alec stood transfixed. “This has to be one of the most beautiful views in the city.”

“I think so,” Magnus said. But, unlike Alec, he wasn’t talking about the grandeur of the skyline and bridge. His gaze was fixated on Alec, taking in the pink flush of a light buzz on his cheeks, the subtle shine of glitter remnants in his beard, and the clink of his bracelet against the bottle as he unconsciously dug at the label, peeling it away in deep thought.

Alec glanced down at him, a slow smile inching across his lips.

Caught staring—again—Magnus cleared his throat and picked up the thread of their conversation. “I’m notably biased, however. When Raphael started looking for something more permanent after signing on with the Angels, I suggested he come by to take a look. He bought this place only a few months ago.”

“Two bedrooms?”

“Three, and a study—which Raphael turned into a music room.”

“No wonder he never goes out with us.”

Magnus gestured at the people on the terrace. Just like downstairs, he only recognized a few of them without their names and numbers on their backs. “Should we join the party?”

Broken from the spell, Alec smiled. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As soon as Alec stepped foot outdoors, a chorus of _Lightwood!_ erupted and Alec was hauled into the arms of a burly defenseman.

“This place is incredible,” Alec said as he clapped his teammate on the back.

Bosch lifted his beer bottle. “All Santiago needs is a TV up there and it would be perfect.”

Alec shifted towards him. “Magnus, this is Matthew Bosch.”

“We actually met the night of the party at IE,” Magnus explained to Alec before turning toward Bosch again. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“So are you two working after hours?” Bosch asked. The Angels’ defenseman furrowed his brow at Alec. “I thought your contract was settled.”

“It is. But Lydia’s my agent now, and Magnus….”

Alec glanced down at Magnus, scratching at his beard as he smiled—silently asking Magnus if it was okay to finish that sentence.

Magnus’ heartbeat thrummed faster. He smirked and arched an eyebrow.

Alec chuckled, meeting Bosch’s eyes again. “Magnus is my boyfriend.”

“No shit.”

“No shit.”

“Welcome to the Angels’ family,” Bosch said with a grin. “We’re the loudmouth cousins.”

“I hear your lovely wife is here tonight as well,” Magnus said.

“Kristin!” Bosch shouted over his shoulder. “Your BFF is here.”

Alec lifted an eyebrow and Magnus had to laugh.

“She hasn’t stopped talking about you since the night of the party,” Bosch said to Magnus, but leaning in towards both of them. “No offense, Lightwood, but he’s way more charming than you are.”

Alec rocked back on his heels, smirking. “I completely agree with you.”

“Magnus!” Kristin declared, squeezing her lithe frame in front of her husband so she could embrace Magnus then Alec.

“You look divine, Kristin,” Magnus offered, stepping back to survey her outfit. “Is this from the new Lela Rose line?”

“It is!” Kristin preened. She gestured toward the woman standing next to her. “This is Kristen with an E, Mantas’ girlfriend.”

Magnus outstretched his hand. “Magnus Bane.”

“Hi,” she replied, shyly. After shaking his hand, she slid her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and looked down, her blonde bangs sliding over her face.

“Kristen and I were going to see a 90’s cover band tonight, but took a last minute detour here—it felt like a good night for a party. Please tell me Alec didn’t rope you into working when you already secured that incredible contract for him.”

“They’re not working,” Bosch said to his wife and Kristen. “Magnus is Alec’s boyfriend.”

“Shut the fuck up! Good for you, Alec.” Kristin beamed. “So when are you two coming over for dinner?”

The blush crawling up Alec’s neck was ferocious and adorable. Alec nodded. “Text me and we’ll set up a time.”

Kristin glanced at the woman next to her. “You and Mantas have to come too.”

Kristen shrugged, clearly even less comfortable being the focus of attention than Alec was.

“Well,” Magnus offered to keep the spotlight off her, “we could all have an impromptu dinner tonight when Raphael is finished in the kitchen.”

“We haven’t eaten yet,” Alec added.

Kristin glanced between them. “You were out?”

Alec chuckled, and Magnus loved knowing that the reason for Alec’s laughter was Kristin’s choice of phrasing. “Yeah, um, Magnus took me to an archery range.”

Kristin’s eyes lit up. “And who won?”

“Jace!” Alec complained as he was tackled from the side by the winger, then a split second later by Mantas on the other side. “Fuck. How much have you two drank already?”

“Not enough to miss that Magnus took you somewhere where things could get…competitive.”

“Yeah, well, I lost. He’s way more competitive than I am.”

“Of course he is.” Jace winked at Magnus. “My agent never loses.”

That turned the conversation toward Jace’s upcoming contract negotiation, then the overall complexity of contracts, which somehow led into a discussion of the latest scandal in New York politics, then even more inexplicably into an argument over what fruits were acceptable in a fruit salad. Eventually Magnus extracted himself from that madness and settled into a conversation about obscure films with Kristen and Mantas that Alec politely exited out of, returning minutes later with arms full of food and Jace in tow, just as laden down with dishes. They rearranged the furniture to settle around a long low table, and when Magnus was seated between the shy and strikingly intelligent Kristen and her quirky hockey player boyfriend, Alec leaned down and kissed Magnus before taking a seat farther down next to Bosch and a few other defensemen.

Magnus’ lips tingled as the conversation continued around them, just as little attention paid to them as had been to the other two couples whenever there was any casual affection between them. The night continued on as normal, everyone except Magnus completely unaware that Alec had apparently taken to decimating his boundary lines like TNT to a mountain.

Magnus grinned. This entire night had gone better than he ever could have—or actually had—imagined.

One by one, the terrace began to empty as the end of the game drew nearer, more players making their way down to the living room to catch the last minutes. Then Kristin tucked her arm into Kristen’s and they took off with hugs and extracted promises to meet up again soon—leaving Alec, Mantas, Jace, and Magnus on the rooftop.

“Lightwood!” Bosch yelled from the living room, his booming voice carrying up the stairs. “You gotta get down here.”

The night was warm, Magnus’ limbs were heavy, and there was still so many of Raphael’s culinary delights left to sample. He smiled at Alec and leaned forward to fetch more food. “You’ll dominate no matter who wins. Go ahead, I’ll stay up here.”

Before Alec had time to respond or protest, he was being dragged away by Mantas, who shouted over his shoulder. “Are you coming, Wayland?”

Jace waved him away, and as soon as they were through the door Jace faced him. “I think we need to talk.”

Magnus’ hand froze with the last of the empanadas at his lips. This was the first time he’d seen Jace since he and Alec had gotten back together, and when they’d been broken up he and Jace had solely traded texts about his contract. Except for their brief conversation in the locker room when Magnus had brought Lydia down to meet Luke, he didn’t know where Jace stood on he and Alec being together—or apart.

Magnus frowned and picked up his drink from the side table. “I’m assuming you don’t mean about business.”

“I wish.”

“Are you aware I already received the protective brother speech from Max?”

“I don’t care about…that. Alec is an adult. I may not have gotten the two of you in the beginning, but you’re good for him and I know you won’t hurt him. But Alec….”

Magnus was taken aback at Jace’s insinuation. He had no idea how to reply.

Jace scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Okay, maybe that came out wrong. I know Alec didn’t mean to hurt you when he broke up with you, and I don’t think Alec _means_ to hurt you now, it’s just—” Jace swore under his breath and scooted closer. “Look. Alec doesn’t do anything in halves—he’s all in or all out. He feels things strongly—even if he doesn’t show it on the outside—and he goes with his gut, but he also likes order and having a clear destination. I saw that bracelet on Alec’s wrist, and that thing could be a wedding ring for everything it means to him, but he sometimes skips over what he doesn’t think is important, charging headfirst for what he wants.”

“You think we’re moving too fast.”

Jace’s brow furrowed. “No. That’s not it. The way the two of you just seem to get each other…. I’ve never seen Alec click with anyone like he does with you. But how much do you really know about each other?”

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “You mean, how much does Alec know about me?”

Jace tipped his head. “That’s not what I mean at all if you think Alec is going to be okay no matter who wins this game.”

Magnus furrowed his brow, even more confused than he’d been before and with an unease settling into his stomach.

A boisterous cacophony of yells echoed up the staircase and Jace tensed. “We’re going to Nashville!” someone boomed.

Jace slumped forward and ran his fingers through his hair, his face contorting. “Fuck.”

The door leading to the terrace banged open and Magnus’ head snapped up to find Alec clutching to the wooden frame as if it was the only thing keeping him standing.

“Magnus.”

Magnus’ throat tightened at the anguish in Alec’s voice.

The first night of the playoffs, Magnus had decided he never wanted to see Alec so broken again. Since then, he and Alec had been through hell and back. He’d seen Alec more battered than any game could ever leave him and more defeated than any loss on the ice ever could. But the look on Alec’s face right now was despair of a very different kind.

Magnus glanced between Alec and Jace. “I don’t understand. What just happened?”

“Nashville won,” Jace said, his voice flat.

Alec swallowed hard, his hazel eyes dark. “We’re playing Raj’s team in the finals.”

 

****

 

Alec took in the clenching of Magnus’ jaw and the anger or betrayal or, fuck, the _hurt_ etching Magnus’ features into sharp relief and his heart pounded against his rib cage. Why couldn’t he stop hurting Magnus?

Magnus pushed up from his chair and crossed the terrace, turning his back on Alec.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Jace said quietly and stood.

Jace laid his hand on Alec’s shoulder as he brushed past and that reassurance was enough to get Alec’s feet moving again. He shut the door behind him and closed the distance between them, standing next to Magnus. “Raj is one of the starting forwards for Nashville. I thought that Jace or Izzy—Max, Clary, Simon, Lydia…. All of them know. So I just thought one of them had already told you. Then in the elevator I realized they hadn’t, but everyone was suddenly there, and I couldn’t— Then I hoped Dallas— Fuck.” Alec sagged forward, resting his forearms on the railing. “We already play them twice a year, and those games are hard enough. I just—”

“Shut down.”

Alec nodded, playing with his bracelet. “Not telling you about Raj earlier, that wasn’t me shutting you out exactly, it was more me trying to deal with my own emotions—or maybe _not_ deal with them. Although, fuck. Either way, it’s me shutting you out, isn’t it?”

“You have a lifetime of building that reaction, it doesn’t disappear.”

Alec gnawed at his lip. “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” Magnus took a sip of his whiskey, then set the glass aside. He leaned his elbow on the railing and turned towards Alec. “I’m not angry at you, Alexander. There are any number of ways I could have found out he was a professional player—you haven’t kept his name from me.” Magnus placed his hand on Alec’s jaw and coaxed Alec to look at him. “I’m more concerned about the position this puts you in.”

Alec closed his eyes and leaned into Magnus’ touch. Magnus wasn’t hurt because of him, he was hurting _for_ Alec. “Magnus. I’m—”

Magnus leaned down and kissed Alec on the forehead. “To be fair, I didn’t tell you about Raphael until tonight either.”

Alec snapped his eyes to Magnus’. “Wait. You and Raphael? You were…together?”

Magnus laughed. “Never.”

“Definitely not the same thing then.”

“No, it’s not,” Magnus allowed. He sighed and dropped his hand from Alec’s jaw, resting his hand on Alec’s wrist and running his fingertips over the bracelet. “I remember telling Clary once that you were a painfully honest man caught in a situation that didn’t allow you to be honest. I don’t know Raj, but I can imagine that it’s not easy for any professional athlete who isn’t straight.”

Alec swallowed against the lump that lodged in his throat. “As far as I know, he considers himself straight.”

“Was the day of Max’s accident the last time you spoke to him?”

“No. I’ve been playing against him every year since then—first in college, then when we both went pro. We were actually signed to the same team at one point, and I— Fuck. I thought I was going to run, then I found out he already had.” Alec laughed darkly. “He ran on me _again_.”

Magnus gripped Alec’s hand.

“But it’s not like we really talk when we’re on the ice together, you know?” Alec continued. “There was one game, though…. He was relentless with snide remarks, and I did what I do best, right? I shut down and shut him out. But he kept pressing in, challenging me. He jabbed me in the hand with his stick and my whole arm started going numb.” Alec resisted the sudden need to dig his thumb into his palm and try to push away the ache. He entwined his fingers with Magnus’ instead. “The same thing actually happened to me in game one against the Lightning. But then, I didn’t have a whole team standing behind me, only Jace. And Jace did his best to help, but I…. Fuck, Magnus. I lost it. That one and the game against the Devils are the only times I’ve been ejected from a game.”

Magnus heaved another sigh and shifted so he was shoulder to shoulder with Alec. “And what has it been like playing against him since then?”

“He hasn’t said one word on the ice to me since that night. We both do our jobs and move on.” But that wasn’t the full truth either. He hadn’t ever been able to fully move on because Raj was always there, constantly reminding him that there was a tension between them that would never be resolved. Taunting him with the fact that he and Raj had taken two completely different paths, and yet they’d ended up in almost the same place. “As much as everyone thinks I should hate him, I don’t. I mean, I know I was young, but I loved him at one point in my life, and that was for a reason, right? I’ve made mistakes—done and said things that I regret—because I was trying to hide who I am. Because I was scared. I can’t fault anyone for doing the same thing, even him.” Alec dared himself to meet Magnus’ eyes. “I’m sorry if talking about all of this is weird for you.”

Magnus shook his head. “Our pasts have formed who we are today.”

“I know, but the thing is…. There was Raj, and then years of one night stands.” Alec bit at his lip and stared out at the Brooklyn Bridge, the constricting emptiness of doubt spreading through his chest. “Am I really that unlovable?”

Magnus’ fingernails dug into Alec’s skin. “Alexander—”

“Not you, Magnus,” Alec said, sadly. “I know you care about me.”

Magnus withdrew his hand, and Alec felt that emptiness spreading, tucking into his darkest corners and sinking its tendrils into him. Alec swallowed against the rush of panic that fluttered in his chest. Then Magnus’ hands were around his jaw and Magnus’ lips were against his, a soothing press of warmth that wiped all that darkness away.

“Come with me, Alexander. There’s something I want to show you.”

 

****

 

Raphael’s apartment was nearly cleared out by the time they made it downstairs. With a wave of dismissal from Raphael packing away food, a nod from Meliorn who was elbow deep in dishes, and head tilts from Emil and Bat who were tossing clean dishes to each other across the kitchen to stack away, Magnus led Alec back down to his loft.

Magnus couldn’t stop thinking about what Jace had said to him. Alec didn’t mean to hurt Magnus—or to hurt himself. But by pushing away his emotions and glossing over his past, that hurt returned over and over again. Their pasts _had_ formed who they were today, and who they, hopefully, would be in the future.

Magnus’ heart pounded as he kept his keys in his hand after opening the door and led Alec into his office without stopping. His hand hesitated at the lock to his safe, and he glanced over his shoulder at Alec. “This is my emotional graveyard. Everything I don’t want to think about, but can’t quite forget. Mementos, slips of paper….” Magnus slid his key into the lock and opened the safe. “I sat in front of this safe for hours the night before your negotiation, deciding whether or not I was going to put the pietersite stone, your letter, and the bracelet in here.”

“But you didn’t.”

Magnus lifted his eyes to Alec. “I did.”

Alec hissed in a breath through his teeth and crossed his arms.

“I placed them in there, but I left the safe open. At the time, leaving it open was more metaphorical for me, but now….” Alec wasn’t the only one who had skipped over what he thought wasn’t important. But all of it was. “I want you to see what’s inside.”

“You’re sure?”

“No,” Magnus answered honestly. “But yes.”

Alec smoothed a hand over his beard, then gestured toward the safe. “Should I just…?”

Magnus swallowed thickly. “Choose whatever you want.”

Alec started to reach inside, but set his fingertips on the edge instead, his brow furrowing.

“Please, Alexander. I want you to.”

“Okay.” Alec nodded and picked up a photo.

Magnus pushed back the jolt of panic that rocketed through him. Alec had unknowingly gone for the jugular with his first choice. “That is Camille.”

Magnus watched Alec carefully for his reaction. Alec held the photo in both hands, eyes tracing over every detail—his features unreadable.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Only on the outside—” Magnus winced. Just like with Ragnor and the Five Minute Code, this was never going to work if he covered up his own emotions with sarcasm. “I shouldn’t be so flippant about her—we were together a long time. We shared many good times, and she stood by me at one of my darkest points….”

Alec simply held Magnus’ gaze, waiting for him to complete that thought.

“When I was so sure there was nothing else to live for that I was on the verge of giving in to my darkest thoughts,” Magnus finished.

“I, uh….” Alec’s jaw clenched, and unshed tears pooled in his eyes. “I’ve been there too. Maybe not as close, but the thoughts? After Max’s accident and before I went pro I had those thoughts too.”

 _Fuck_. This was going to be harder to do than he’d envisioned. Magnus’ throat burned. “Imagine what we both would’ve missed if we’d made different decisions.”

Alec shook his head. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“If we don’t, then how do we understand our own strength and the love of others it took for us to get to this point?”

“I know you’re right, but I….” Alec gritted his teeth. “I spent enough of the last ten days thinking about what my life would be like without you. I don’t want to think about that anymore.”

Magnus’ breath caught in his chest. “Okay.”

Alec cracked his neck and studied the picture again. “She’s not all bad if she helped you through one of the hardest parts of your life.”

“No, she’s not,” Magnus admitted. “But her support of me during that time made her ultimate betrayal even worse. If I could lock her up in this safe to ensure I’d never have to see her face-to-face again, I would.”

“You think there’s room in there for Raj too?”

Magnus heard the attempt at lightness in Alec’s words, but he heard the underlying pain even louder. “I’ll be there during the finals, Alexander. However you need me to be.”

“I’m pretty sure Luke won’t let you come on the ice with me, so somewhere in the arena will work too.”

This time, Alec’s lightness wasn’t feigned. Magnus smiled. “I love the IE suite.”

“Not just here in New York. We’ll have at least two games in Nashville. If you can make it happen with your work schedule, I’d like you to be there too.”

“Then I’ll be there.”

Alec tipped his head toward the safe. “May I?”

Magnus nodded, watching as Alec set aside the picture of Camille and picked up the next in the stack.

“That is Etta,” Magnus said. “I was older than her and we didn’t see eye to eye on a future together. We parted on good terms, though. One of the few I can say that about. I hope she lives a long, happy life.”

“Why is she in here then?”

“Because I loved her and she loved me, but we still couldn’t make it work.”

Alec smirked, glancing sideways at Magnus. “Is it awful to say I’m glad it didn’t work out?”

Magnus chuckled softly. “No, it’s not.”

“Were there any men that you loved?”

Alec asked that question without fear, as if he had anticipated the answer flitting through Magnus’ head— _None like you_.

“A few,” Magnus hedged. “There are degrees of love, though. Places that people held in my life at certain times.”

Alec pursed his lips and set the picture down again, fingers grazing over a rusted piece of metal.

“That is a bolt from the ship I was smuggled in on,” Magnus explained.

“How long were you on there?”

Magnus held out his hand and Alec dropped the piece of metal into his palm, crimson dust scattering against his skin. When Magnus held that bolt he could still feel the swaying of the ship beneath his feet. “Almost a month. I was fifteen years old—”

Alec inhaled sharply.

Magnus shrugged. “I was one of the lucky ones. The captain looked over me and ensured his men did too. I’ve heard so many horror stories since then, but at the time I had no concept of the danger I was putting myself into. That month changed me in ways I still can’t fully grasp.” Magnus set down the bolt and picked up the rectangular piece of paper it had been sitting on. “And this is the business card of the lawyer who helped me earn asylum and eventually my citizenship.”

Alec read over the fading letters, his eyes widening. “Imogen? She used to be a lawyer?”

“The best agents are,” Magnus said, setting down her business card next to the very first one of his own he’d ever had. “In my profoundly humble opinion.”

Alec’s eyebrows shot up. “ _You_ were a lawyer?”

“For a very short time. It’s a good thing I earned a scholarship instead of taking out loans.”

Alec reached toward the back of the safe blindly and pulled out another picture that had Magnus’ breath catching in his chest. “That is my step-father, my mother, and me. It’s the only picture I have from my childhood with them.”

Alec swallowed hard. “You said that your mom….”

“I was the one who found her. I understood death, but in the way a child does—as a concept more than reality.”

“I was older than you”—Alec cleared his throat—“when I pulled Max out of that car. But I don’t think I understood any better than you did.” He rested his shoulder against the hutch and slumped forward, putting them eye-to-eye. “When you feel the absolute stillness of death everything shifts. It’s an awareness you can’t come back from.”

It had been months since Magnus had first heard the story of Max’s accident, and in the intervening time he’d forgotten that this was a commonality they shared. “It is a loss of innocence just as much as a loss of the life.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t my only mother, though.”

Alec lifted his eyes to Magnus’. “What do you mean?”

“The woman who ran the orphanage I lived in…. The day after you told me about your parents tracking down my biological father I contacted her to find out what she knew. I didn’t know if there was a chance they had told him who and where I was.”

Alec paled. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“It didn’t occur to me until the morning after, either. But I don’t have to worry.”

Alec’s eyes darted over his face. “Why?”

“Siti said that my biological father is in prison and will be there for the rest of his life.”

Alec returned the picture to the safe and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you, Magnus. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“It was good I handled it on my own. I’ve reconnected with Siti and we’ve been in touch a few times since then.” Magnus smiled and slid his cell from his pocket, opening up his thread with Siti. “She texted me this picture a few days ago.”

Alec grinned. “You were a cute kid.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “Again with calling me cute.”

“I just call it how I see it.”

It was an echo of a conversation from before Magnus had understood how much Alec would come to mean to him. “You are a goalie, not a referee.”

“Speaking of hockey….” Alec’s gaze flitted toward the safe. “There’s, uh…. There’s one thing I don’t see in here, and that you haven’t….”

Magnus understood immediately. “Your book.”

“Which one of them told you that Tarasov book was mine? Izzy or Max?”

“Isabelle.”

“She saw it in your office?”

Magnus arched an eyebrow in silent question. How had Alec known it was there?

“I saw it on your bookshelf the night of the party at IE when Clary took me down,” Alec admitted. “I also saw the bracelet in your drawer that night.”

“Oh.”

“You gave me back the bracelet, though. I guess I’m just curious…. Why did you keep the book? Not just in your office, why at all?”

Why hadn’t he given it back to Alec with the rest of the gifts he’d returned—that was the question Alec was asking. “I didn’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t piece together why you had given it to me in the first place. It obviously had value due to being a rare first edition, and it was written by one of your personal heroes. Then to find out it was yours? That exact copy is irreplaceable. And when you sent it to me, we hadn’t even…. We were friends then, Alexander.”

“I wish I had a more profound reason, but it just felt right—so I did it. It’s the same reason I signed that contract extension with IE after LA. I didn’t even think about the implications, I just knew I needed you. I overthink everything, but you…? I see you so clearly that sometimes I’m blinded to everything else around me.”

Magnus frowned. “Then how did you walk away from me so easily the night you broke up with me?”

“I didn’t want you to hurt anymore because of me,” Alec answered simply. And maybe, Magnus realized with complete clarity, it really had been that simple for Alec. Alec sighed. “I didn’t think about the future implications of that either. I have a lot of making up to do.”

“You don’t.”

Alec’s eyes locked to his. “You almost put _me_ in this safe, Magnus.”

“Almost,” Magnus acknowledged.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are,” Magnus reassured him. “And I also know you did what you thought was best. Not what was best for you, but what you believed was best for me.”

“I was so far off base, though.”

“We all make mistakes, Alexander. I forgive you.” And he did. He held no animosity towards Alec. “Just like the gift count, we’re on even ground with this too.”

“I’ll never stop being sorry for walking away from you. You consider us even, but I have work to do in rebuilding your trust.”

Magnus had spent the entire day thinking of little else besides what they both wanted, and how difficult it could be to get back to the same level of trust they’d had before, but maybe that answer wasn’t as complicated as he’d thought it would be. “You don’t.”

“Magnus—”

“You don’t,” he insisted. He _had_ almost put Alec in this safe, but now Alec was standing in front of it. “I trust you, Alexander.”

Alec’s eyes darted over his face. “Then what is it?”

“I know my history is a lot to…process.”

Magnus pushed away from the hutch and walked out of the office, seeking space. Unlike Alec, he didn’t know how to say that he felt just as unlovable as Alec when he looked at the contents of his safe. He’d hoped that maybe Alec would make that logic leap without Magnus saying it out loud.

Fear thrummed against his rib cage like a butterfly caught on the wrong side of a window. “There’s more inside the safe, but as I said earlier we don’t have to cover everything in one night. It’s late, and you have practice early.”

Magnus hadn’t even heard Alec’s footsteps, then Alec’s hands rested on Magnus’ shoulders, urging Magnus’ back into Alec’s chest. Alec’s beard scratched against his neck and Alec’s lips brushed the shell of his ear. “If you need me to go, I will. But if you ask me to stay, I’ll say yes.”

A shiver passed down Magnus’ spine.

“I want all of you. Your heart. Your mind. Your past. _All_ of you, Magnus.”

What he was most afraid of was glaringly obvious with Alec’s hands holding him steady. That despite the myriad of fears he held, none of them were strong enough to keep him away from Alec.

Every truth they spoke out loud deepened their connection, and every shared pain divided the weight of it between them, so they were both able to stand taller.

He didn’t want to live a life without Alec, and if Magnus asked him not to walk out that door tonight, there was a possibility he’d never leave again.

And if that was his greatest fear, what did he really have to fear at all?

Magnus inhaled. “Will you stay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic and twitter @authorsamcauley ♡ xx


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> malec lingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how we went almost 12 full chapters without one kiss? then it took another 3 chapters for a second kiss? well, we've officially reached a point where I can't keep track of how many times they've kissed. 
> 
> about. fucking. time.
> 
> fuck.
> 
> some of the events in this chapter were supposed to happen in ch 19, but i moved them for emotional arc reasons, and now i’m really really fucking happy that i did.
> 
> idk how y'all are feeling, but i needed time for malec to just “be.” no drama, no fast moving plot, no abbreviated conversations…. just malec being malec and us being able to see them exist as _magnusandalec_.
> 
> so i present to you ch 20. 16k words of malec lingering--glances, touches, casual affection, banter, conversation, laughter, and yes, sex as well. because malec is **all** those pieces.
> 
> i would love, love, love to see the #itsb tag inundated with malec appreciation. malec deserves page time, screen time, and a public show of support that reaffirms a healthy, queer relationship.
> 
> for the first time in ages, there are no trigger warnings.
> 
> enjoy.

_Will you stay?_

Alec closed his eyes, the vulnerability in Magnus’ voice tearing into him.

In a cascade of consequences that couldn’t be undone, Alec’s actions had dredged years’ worth of heartbreak and painful memories to the surface for Magnus. Lost loves, an abusive childhood, a journey halfway around the world seeking escape…. Normally, guilt would’ve overtaken Alec, but guilt was selfish. How Alec felt right now came secondary. In this moment, Magnus needed to know someone cared for him. That _Alec_ cared for him.

“Of course I will,” Alec answered, sliding his hands over Magnus’ shoulders and crossing his arms over Magnus’ chest, holding him tight. Magnus’ heartbeat thundered against his arms, but outwardly he was so quiet—so uncharacteristically still. “Let’s go to bed.”

Magnus grasped onto Alec’s forearms and nodded, yet he didn’t move.

“Come on,” Alec urged.

He clasped Magnus’ hand and led him towards the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder. Magnus’ lips tipped into a smile—a self-protection mechanism designed to give the impression that he was fine, but Alec knew better—Magnus’ eyes always gave him away. Inside, Magnus was struggling, consumed by his thoughts in an unspoken battle.

He couldn’t erase Magnus’ pain, and he couldn’t take it on as if it was his own, but he could remind Magnus that there was good—still so much good—here, now, and yet to come.

Alec pushed into the bathroom and cleared off a spot on the counter, patting it.

Magnus merely tipped his head in a silent question.

“Which one of these is for taking off your makeup?” Alec asked, sweeping a hand over the mess of bottles.

This time, the softness in Magnus’ smile wasn’t forced. He pointed toward a canister of wipes and situated himself on the counter.

Alec picked up the container, then leaned against the counter next to Magnus. “I’ve never done this before, so….”

Magnus’ green-gold eyes locked onto his. “You put your heart into everything you do.”

The thought _how did I get so lucky?_ flitted through his head as it had so many times before, and Alec dismissed it without consideration this time. Maybe it had been luck that had brought them to each other at first, but it was work that had gotten them here. Dedication, persistence. Trust.

So much trust that Magnus sat in front of him, allowing Alec to lay him bare.

Alec inhaled a steadying breath. “Chin up.”

Magnus tipped his head back and Alec swept the wipe over his cheeks, his forehead, down the line of his nose, then over his eyes. With each swipe of the cloth, Alec watched as Magnus’ shoulders dropped farther and his grip on the countertop eased. At Magnus’ jawline, Alec’s lips found warm skin, and Magnus curled his hands into Alec’s shirt, tugging him in close. Magnus held fast to him—cheek to cheek—for a breath, then two, before letting Alec go.

As Magnus removed his jewelry piece by piece, Alec tossed the wipe in the trash, picking up Magnus’ toothbrush. “Do you have one I can borrow?”

Magnus slipped off the last of his rings and motioned toward a drawer behind Alec.

Alec reached inside the drawer and Magnus’ quiet voice stopped him.

“Next time,” Magnus’ eyes met his—hopeful and intent, “bring one you can keep here.”

Alec smiled. “Okay.”

The grief and indecision that had been painted on Magnus’ face minutes ago had faded away with the simplicity of a shared evening routine. Alec settled the toothbrush into the cup next to Magnus’, and Magnus reached up, swiping toothpaste off Alec’s beard and coaxing him in for a kiss. Alec lingered there, tasting the mint on Magnus’ lips and breathing with him.

“Bed?”

Magnus nodded. His fingertips trailed over Alec’s stomach as he set his feet on the floor again, and he stripped as he headed for the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him that Alec picked up as they crossed the loft. Magnus sighed as he slipped naked under the sheets and burrowed into the pillows. Alec smiled and shed his shirt, pants, and socks, leaving everything draped over a chair with Magnus’ clothes. He slid into the other side of the bed, chest to chest with Magnus, wrapping him up in his arms and exhaling—letting go of every thought, every worry, and existing in this exact moment—grateful for the beautiful man in his arms.

“Are you comfortable?”

Magnus’ lips brushed against Alec’s throat as he nodded.

Alec shivered from the touch and traced his fingers over Magnus’ spine.

Magnus’ breath coasted over his skin—a warm caress as Magnus’ lips dropped to Alec's shoulder and he slid his hand over Alec’s hip. His fingers skated under the waistband of Alec’s briefs, pressing his body flush against Alec’s.

Alec's breath caught—his body was already responding, but his mind hesitated. “I didn't ask to stay because of this.”

It was both a question and reassurance. It was the truth.

“I know.” Magnus lifted his eyes to Alec’s. There was no doubt there, no insecurity. “I just want you…close.”

He wanted that too. He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to Magnus’.

Magnus skimmed his hand to Alec’s lower back, coaxing him forward and Alec moved with him, deepening the kiss, a flickering heat building in his veins. Magnus palmed his ass, pushing the briefs down, and Alec’s pulse kicked up at Magnus’ soft gasp when skin met skin. Alec let go of Magnus long enough to push off his boxers and lose them in the tangle of the sheets. He laid his palms on Magnus’ ribs and urged him to his back until their bodies were aligned, lips to feet.

Magnus canted up his hips and gripped him tighter, his fingernails digging in. “Please, Alexander. Closer.”

Alec’s eyes darted over Magnus’ face. “Do you mean…?”

“Everything you need is in the nightstand.” Magnus’ tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Your side.”

Alec’s heart tripped an erratic beat. He laid out on top of Magnus, kissing him until every cell in his body demanded that he bury himself in Magnus and get as close—as inseparable—as they possibly could.

Alec lifted his head. “Are you sure?”

Magnus smiled then, lifting his hand to trace his thumb over Alec’s lips. “I’m sure.”

He reached for the nightstand and pulled out a strip of condoms and the lube, laying both on the bed and going back immediately to Magnus, skating his hand down Magnus’ ribcage and kissing his neck. Magnus’ pulse fluttered under his lips.

Alec kissed his way down Magnus’ torso, reveling in the shift of muscle over bone each time Magnus dragged in a ragged inhalation. Magnus spread his legs, opening himself to Alec, and Alec had to touch, had to taste. Magnus dug his heels into the mattress when Alec enveloped him in his mouth, and gasped when Alec slipped off, reaching for the lube.

“I’ve got you,” Alec said, placing a kiss on Magnus’ hip.

Magnus threaded his fingers through Alec’s hair, his gaze intent. “I know you do.”

He warmed the lube between his fingers, circled Magnus’ rim with his fingertip then pressed inside, his lust flaring with the desperate moan that slipped out of Magnus’ lips. He took his time, learning the feel of Magnus’ body and what made his breath catch, skating one hand over smooth skin, licking and sucking at Magnus’ thighs until Magnus was writhing beneath him, driving back on Alec’s hand.

Alec’s heart sped as he rolled on the condom and slicked himself. Magnus’ head tipped back and his lips parted as Alec sank into Magnus’ body, struggling to catch his breath.

“Closer, Alexander.”

Alec thrusted deeper and Magnus arched up, a moan escaping his lips.

He rode Magnus slowly, stretching out the pleasure, drawing them both out until sweat beaded on Magnus’ forehead and his chest heaved. Alec braced himself above Magnus with one hand and took Magnus’ cock in the other, working him over with deliberate slowness.

Every inescapable, undeniable emotion he felt for Magnus had to be obvious in the moment. Magnus held his gaze, unflinching, the only sound from his lips a low rumble of pleasure every time Alec buried himself as deep as he could go. But Magnus didn’t have to say anything, Alec could see it all. He kissed Magnus until he was desperate for breath, until Magnus was spilling over his hand and the rhythm of his hips kicked up, driving him deeper inside Magnus over and over again, closer, Magnus’ arms holding him tight, safe, as he careened over the edge into freefall.

His mouth lingered against Magnus’, lips and tongues lazily joining as they breathed together.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Magnus kissed him softly, his hand cradling Alec’s jaw. “More than okay.”

Alec swallowed roughly. “Stay here. I’ll get something to clean us up.”

He didn’t spare a second to look at himself in the bathroom mirror, he knew how he would look—hair mussed, lips swollen, and skin reddened from fingertips digging in. He’d studied his reflection enough times after men who hadn’t meant anything to convince himself that sex was just sex.

He’d been so wrong.

He didn’t need to look at himself now because the emotions settling inside him meant more. He felt accepted. At peace. Loved. And he'd seen the same mirrored in Magnus’ eyes.

That was all that mattered.

By the time he made it back into the bedroom, Magnus’ eyes were heavy-lidded. Alec wiped him clean and crawled into bed again with him. Magnus set his hand on Alec’s chest, fingers trailing through Alec’s chest hair as his eyes began to slip closed.

Alec traced his fingertips over Magnus’ jawline and Magnus leaned into his touch. There were so many things he wanted to say, and the words that slipped past his lips on a sigh were complete honesty. “You are so far out of my league.”

Magnus chuckled softly. “Likewise, Alexander.”

Pink stained Magnus’ cheeks and Alec catalogued the blush with his fingertips, drawing the telling warmth of Magnus’ skin—that unfettered joy—into his heart. “Magnus?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve never, uh…done that…. What you….” Alec cleared his throat. “I’ve never bottomed. But I want to. With you, if that wasn’t clear.”

Magnus’ mouth tipped into a sleepy smirk. The tilt of his lips was a sign of a return to full confidence, even in the falling hush of satiation. “Painfully clear. I think both of us need sleep right now, though.” He tugged on Alec, urging him to scoot closer. “Come here.”

Alec snuggled into Magnus’ side and draped an arm over Magnus’ chest, placing a kiss on his head. “Night, Magnus.”

“Goodnight, Alexander.”

Alec breathed deep and closed his eyes.

 

****

 

This was the third time Magnus had woken up with Alec in his bed, and Magnus couldn’t shake the thought that he wanted so many of these mornings that he would lose count—one morning blending into the next in a string of sunrises completely uneventful in passage, and yet memorable because of their sheer number—but this one…. This morning was one he’d never forget.

He’d woken with the Chairman’s protesting scratches against the door, lifting himself carefully out of bed to avoid waking Alec, and settled back in with the Chairman snuggling in the space between their legs. Then he’d spent the next thirty minutes unabashedly cataloging each breath Alec took, each twitch of his nose, and resisting the temptation to reach out for him. To wake him with true love’s kiss.

Magnus smiled at the thought.

After last night, he had no doubt how Alec felt about him. The fear he’d clung to so tightly seemed foolish—almost a waste of time. But just as Alec had contended that he hadn’t been ready for a relationship when they’d first met, Magnus hadn’t been ready until last night. His heart was still sore from every painful memory that had been dredged up by allowing Alec into his safe, but the acceptance he’d found in Alec’s arms was more profound than that pain could ever be.

Unable to resist the urge anymore, Magnus reached out and ran his fingertips over Alec’s beard. The depth of Alec’s breathing shifted and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, his hazel eyes finding Magnus immediately.

“This may be the most comfortable bed in the universe,” Alec mumbled. “I slept so well.”

“Or maybe it’s just me.”

Alec smiled at that. “Good morning.”

“The best.”

Magnus scooted over with the intent of merely pecking Alec on the lips, but Alec gripped him around the waist and pulled him in, sighing contentedly when they were skin to skin.

Magnus huffed out a laugh at Alec’s transformation from reclusive eel to clingy octopus.

In the last two months, Magnus had come to learn that Alec didn’t casually touch anyone. His hands were usually clasped behind his back, stationed on his hips, scratching through his beard, or waving about when he was making a point or attempting to pluck the right word out of the air. Even with his siblings and Jace or Clary, Alec rarely used physical contact as a means of strengthening their connection.

Since the Gallant photo shoot in LA—when one pat of Alec’s hand had sparked the reality of his attraction alive—Magnus had been the exception. Since Alec had kissed him in Bryant Park, Alec had sought out—and taken—more opportunities to diminish the physical space between them. And since Magnus had asked him to stay last night, Alec had kept close, always touching him somehow—as if he had been starved for contact and was making up for lost time.

Alec burrowed into Magnus’ chest, and Magnus slid his leg over Alec’s hip, hooking his foot around Alec’s thigh, and drawing him in even closer.

Okay, maybe Magnus was making up for lost time too.

“I don’t want to get up,” Alec mumbled into his skin.

Magnus hummed his agreement. He didn't want to either. “What time does practice start?”

“Nine. I gotta go back to my place and get my gear first, though.”

“Susanna invited me to come by to discuss Jace’s contract,” he said as he scratched his nails through Alec's hair. “I could walk with you to the arena.”

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Magnus glanced at his cell, noting they were already cutting close on time. One of them had to untangle and leave the bed, and he had a feeling it wasn’t going to be Alec.

He dropped a kiss onto Alec's head and reluctantly pulled out of his arms, forcing himself out of bed and toward his dresser. “Shower?”

“You go first. I want to stretch before I head to practice.”

“Exercising some rarely used muscles?” Magnus asked, glancing over his shoulder at Alec.

Alec’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, gaze blatantly locked to Magnus’ ass. “They don’t have to be rarely used anymore.”

“Who am I to stand in the way of a world-class athlete’s training regimen?”

Alec smirked and set his feet on the floor, picking up his cell from the nightstand. “Kristin Bosch texted me about dinner. She’s wondering if we could do Saturday night.”

“I actually have a party planned for Saturday,” Magnus said as he picked through his clothing options.

“At IE?”

Magnus shook his head. “Pandemonium. It's a welcome-to-summer party of sorts for friends, but also a test. I’m considering using my bonus this year to buy in as a co-owner—” Magnus paused, realizing that was only one of many things Alec wasn’t aware of. “Raphael is the owner of Pandemonium, I don’t know if you knew that….”

“I didn’t,” Alec said with a laugh.

“Anyway, I gave him some ideas about how to increase attendance and he asked if I wanted to buy in. As I said, I’m considering it.”

Alec smiled. “You would be great at that.”

“The free drinks and dancing alone would be worth it,” Magnus dismissed.

“Yeah, I guess the overall feel of Pandemonium fits with your style,” Alec said as he pulled on his boxer briefs, “and I’m sure the draw of _the Magnus Bane_ would be more than enough to fill the room, but that’s not what I meant.” He stood and faced Magnus. “You have the business acumen and negotiation skills to make it the most profitable club in the city.”

Magnus bit at his lip. He’d been standing naked in front of Alec for the last two minutes, and yet this was when he felt most vulnerable. “Thank you for that.”

Alec shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it. So….” Alec’s lips tipped into a smirk as he stalked toward Magnus. “Am I invited too?”

“I don’t know. It is an extraordinarily exclusive guest list….”

Alec’s arms bracketed Magnus in as he laid his palms on the dresser and leaned down to kiss Magnus’ shoulder. “Please?”

“I suppose I could find room for you and your brood.”

“Jace too?”

Magnus rolled his eyes dramatically and huffed. “If I must.”

Alec grinned triumphantly and sauntered into the living room, running his fingers through his hair.

Magnus took a moment to appreciate him walking away, then refocused on his closet, contemplating the warmer weather and how to balance style with functionality since he was going to be walking to work. After his usual internal debate that always took longer than he intended, he settled on tailored linen pants and a cotton dress shirt with sleeves that were meant to be rolled up and buttons that could be left undone when the need arose.

He grabbed his cell, then looped the hangers over his fingers and headed for the bathroom, stopping short when he caught sight of Alec on his knees in front of the windows, his briefs stretched obscenely tight as he bent backwards, his arms extended behind him.

Alec’s eyes had been closed, but the squeak that had emanated from Magnus’ throat must not have been as quiet as he’d hoped.

Alec smirked when he caught eyes with Magnus. “I have to be flexible.”

“Indeed,” Magnus rasped.

Then Alec arched up, his thigh muscles bulging and his back muscles rippling as he bent forward and Magnus forgot how to breathe.

Alec's restrained laugh pulled him back to the present.

_The bastard._

Magnus regained his composure and clicked over to his camera, snapping off a picture. “For posterior…. Excuse me, _posterity’s_ sake.”

Alec chuckled. “Go take a shower, Magnus.”

Magnus didn’t loiter as long as he usually would under his multiple showerheads, cognizant of saving some of the hot water for Alec. It was a sacrifice, but one he was willing to make in exchange for more mornings like this. Alec knocked and strode through the door with a glistening sheen of sweat on his skin and despite the fragility of the linen pants Magnus wore, it took every ounce of control within him to not climb in after Alec when he stripped out of his briefs without hesitation and stepped inside the shower, a low groan passing over his lips when the hot water hit his skin.

Magnus stumbled on weak knees to the bedroom and finished getting dressed—affixing his jewelry, buttoning his shirt, and applying a simple layer of makeup.

Mere minutes after the shower had shut off, Alec was calling out for him. “Are you ready, Magnus?”

Magnus took a deep breath, surveyed his outfit one more time, then swept into the main room. Alec’s hair was still wet, and just as Raphael had contended, there were sparkles in his beard. He had on the same outfit as last night, and the sight of recycled clothes brought a smile to Magnus’ face. “I am.”

He couldn’t resist the draw of Alec’s lips, his heart pounding as he lifted his chin and planted a chaste kiss on those devastating lips.

Alec smiled and held the front door open for him. “You wanna grab coffee and some breakfast after I get changed and pick up my gear? We can get something to go—” Alec cut himself off and came to a stop in the hallway, his brow furrowing. “Aren’t you going to lock your door?”

Magnus leaned against the doorjamb, a calm settling over him, settling _inside_ him. “You have a key. Feel free to use it.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Now?”

“Anytime,” Magnus answered simply.

Alec’s shy smile made his lips even more devastating. “Okay.”

Yes, this was most certainly a morning that Magnus would never forget.

 

****

 

Alec pulled his keys out of his pocket, running his fingers over the bumps and indentations of the metal as they neared his building. His keys were scarred and scratched from years of use—except for the newest one from Magnus—and he couldn’t help but think about Simon rambling on about bumps and imperfections and how two people who were different could still fit together, perfectly, in their own unique way.

Alec smiled and glanced at Magnus, tipping his head toward the front door of his building. “You coming up?”

“Why don’t I run over to that bakery and pick up breakfast while you get changed? That will give us more time to walk.”

Alec nodded. “Okay.”

“Anything in particular that you want?”

“You already know how I take my coffee. And maybe oatmeal? I need to recover from Raphael’s cooking last night.” Alec laughed at Magnus’ affronted expression. “It was great, don’t get me wrong. Just not great for my abs.”

Magnus’ lips crooked into a smile. “Done. I’ll meet you back here, then.”

Alec stepped closer to Magnus. Between Sebastian and his parents, Gramercy made him feel more guarded, more on edge. But he pushed past that worry and leaned in to place a kiss on Magnus’ lips. “I’ll see you back here in a few.”

Magnus’ fingertips trailed down his arm as he turned to enter his building. He trudged up to his apartment and dropped his keys on the table by the door.

He didn’t have an extra set of keys to offer Magnus—both sets had gone to Izzy and Max years ago—and no idea who he’d go to for another set since he avoided interacting with people as a general rule, but even if did have an extra set, he didn’t know if Magnus would want them. He didn’t know if _he_ wanted these keys anymore.

He owned this place outright, and the location, amenities, and parking were enviable, but it had never felt like home.

Not like Magnus’ loft had since the first time Magnus had invited him inside.

Wanting to get out of his apartment and back to Magnus as soon as he could, he changed quickly and pulled his duffel bag from the closet, unzipping it to check the contents—clean, generic workout clothes for practice, rolls of white hockey tape, and a mask that would soon be replaced…. Everything in order as it always was—the only hint of color the back piece to his mask that had been inspired by Magnus.

Alec pushed everything over, making room in his bag and walked back to his closet. Magnus had only asked for the sweatshirt back, but Alec grabbed the earbuds and book off the top shelf and placed all three in his bag before zipping it closed. He pulled on a baseball cap and sunglasses—hoping that minimal disguise would buy he and Magnus some privacy as they walked—and relocked his apartment door.

When he pushed through the front door of his building, Magnus was already waiting for him, a paper bag hooked around his fingers and two cups of coffee in his hands.

Alec smiled and accepted one of the cups from Magnus.

“And I procured bland oatmeal for the benefit of your six pack,” Magnus said. “But I had them add cranberries and toasted almonds. For color.”

Alec smiled and readjusted his duffel. “Thanks.”

“Susanna texted me. She had to move our meeting to later, but I can still walk with you part of the way.”

“It’s kind of out of the way, but how about if we take the High Line?” Alec suggested.

Magnus grinned. “Lead away, my wandering netminder.”

 

****

 

Magnus surveyed the people enjoying the sunshine on the High Line as he waited, sipping at his coffee. Alec was crouched down, snapping off a picture of a bloom of stunning flowers Magnus had pointed out, baseball hat pulled low over his forehead and sunglasses stationed over his eyes to minimize public recognition.

“Text me that one?” Magnus asked.

Alec nodded as he stood, typing.

Magnus’ cell pinged with the text from Alec as they started walking again, and he glanced at Alec. “That reminds me, biscuit texted me—”

Alec snorted and Magnus arched an eyebrow.

“It’s just….” Alec laughed softly. “I meant to tell you this _months_ ago, but maybe you’ve already heard it? A biscuit is a puck in hockey slang. So pretty much every time you call Clary that I laugh inside. And sometimes on the outside.” Magnus glared at Alec and Alec sipped at his coffee, smirking. “Just a little bit. I can’t help it.”

Magnus tipped his head. “Her nickname is rather appropriate considering where her romantic inclinations seem to be heading as of late.”

“Really? I mean, I wondered…. But they’re both playing it so low key.” Alec barked out a laugh. “I would love to know how that all went down.”

He hadn’t realized Alec had picked up on Clary and Lydia’s…developing fascination with each other. “I expect both of them will be filling out the conflict of interest paperwork for IE soon, as should _I_.”

“There’s paperwork?”

“Nothing says romance like Human Resources forms,” Magnus lamented. “But really, it protects both of us too.”

Alec nodded. “Okay.”

“So,” Magnus said, “what other hockey slang have I been abusing?”

“Nothing else as far as I know. Unless you’ve been letting Max give you lessons on the finer points.”

Magnus circled around a family, ensuring their conversation was out of reach of innocent ears before he answered. “I am quite aware of the frankly sexual overtones of the sport without his lessons.”

“Backdoor, poke check, stick—pretty much anything having to do with the stick, really….”

“It is fertile ground for me to till.”

“You’re an agent, Magnus, not a farmer.”

Magnus smiled. “If my life had been different, I might have been a farmer. One of my favorite pastimes as a child was tending to the village’s crops. Or perhaps I’d’ve been a writer, it’s somewhat the same skill set.”

“You do love playing with words.”

“I do,” Magnus agreed. “But there are words I cannot stand.”

“Like?”

“Robust,” he said, pointedly glaring at his coffee cup. “I detest the word robust.”

“Snack and crate.” Alec shuddered. “Saying or hearing either one of those is like nails on a chalkboard for me.”

“You must be traumatized by the advertisements for those monthly subscriptions to snack crates.”

“Oh my god, stop it.”

Magnus chuckled. “Then there’s moist, delectable—”

Alec groaned. “This conversation is painful.”

Magnus smiled. It was possibly the _least_ painful conversation he and Alec had ever had. So…normal. But Magnus wouldn’t have changed one thing that had led them to this point. No normal path would have ever led them to each other. Alec was much too extraordinary for that.

Alec cocked his head toward an empty bench. “You want to sit down and eat here? We have time.”

Magnus nodded and settled down next to Alec. “Anyway, as I was saying before, Clary texted me and she’s going through my files transferring everything of yours over to Lydia. Do you want the packet of letters from your teammates? Or do you want them to stay in IE’s files? They don’t have to be part of the official record if you’d rather hold onto them.”

Alec shrugged as he opened the bag from the bakery. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t read them.”

Magnus spluttered. “You didn’t read them?”

“I trust Luke. I trust all of them. Maybe I will one day.”

“You should,” Magnus replied as he accepted the cinnamon roll from Alec.

“I will when I’m ready.” Alec stretched his legs out and leaned back, his to-go bowl of oatmeal in his hands. “So how was work yesterday?”

“I actually took the day off.”

“Oh yeah? What did you do?”

Magnus shook his head. “Nothing.”

“That’s…. That’s good.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“It’s just….”—Alec waved his spoon in the air—“I’m sure it’s the first real break you’ve taken for yourself since you were probably a teenager.” Alec’s brow furrowed as he looked at Magnus. “What?”

“That is…unerringly accurate,” Magnus replied. He’d heard Alec last night when he said that he saw Magnus clearly, but he hadn’t realized how true that was. “I’ve taken quite a few vacations, but none where I actually shut myself completely off from school, at one time, or work. I had to Google how to use the Do Not Disturb function on my cell, but I blocked almost everyone from reaching me.”

“Almost everyone?”

“Except for Cat, Ragnor, Raphael….” Magnus admitted. “And you.”

“Even though you weren’t, uh…quite sure how you felt about me?”

Magnus wasn’t going to deny that. Or deny Alec’s implication that Magnus _was_ sure now. “We did have a date.”

Alec nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe after the finals are over we can go somewhere and do nothing, together.”

“I’d like that.” Magnus smiled and shifted to face Alec, one arm slung over the back of the bench as he picked pieces off his cinnamon roll. “Tell me, what destinations are at the top of your list?”

“Everywhere outside this continent,” Alec admitted with a laugh. “I’ve traveled a lot, but it’s always been around the US and Canada. It would be nice to get out of North America, and do a trip completely unrelated to hockey.”

“You would love South America.”

“Yeah?”

“Although I may have to forge alternate travel documents if you want to see Peru.”

Alec lifted an eyebrow.

“I may be banned from returning there,” Magnus confessed.

“ _May_ be?”

“I can’t say if it’s official or just highly recommended that I don’t return. It was all Ragnor’s fault.”

“So he’s banned too?”

Magnus shook his head.

“Mmhmm,” Alec said. “Ragnor’s fault then.”

Magnus smirked. Someday he’d share with Alec how he’d attempted to usher in the summer solstice on Machu Picchu, but that story was more like tenth date material than third. He swallowed another divine bite of his pastry and asked, “Hockey related travel, though…. What about the 2018 Winter Olympics in South Korea?”

Alec shook his head. “Being chosen for the US Hockey Team is a long shot.”

“ _When_ you’re chosen,” Magnus emphasized, “perhaps we could swing by Indonesia on the way back.”

“Maybe we could.”

The blush high on Alec’s cheeks told Magnus that Alec didn’t think being chosen for the team _or_ them still being together at that time—one and a half years in the future—were long shots.

Magnus scooted in closer to Alec, holding up a piece of the cinnamon roll. “I know you have to watch your diet, but you really should try this. It’s heavenly.”

Alec licked his lips. “One bite won’t derail me.”

Alec opened his mouth and Magnus popped a piece into his mouth. Alec groaned. “Fuck, that’s—”

“Gross,” a man’s voice cut in. “I need eye bleach, Iz.”

Magnus lifted his eyes to Max and Izzy, smiling. “Good morning, Lightwoods.”

Izzy beamed. “Morning, Magnus.”

“How did you even find us here?” Alec sputtered.

Max crossed his arms. “You’re ridiculously predictable, big brother.”

“And Alec’s been leaving a social media trail since last night,” Izzy added.

Magnus stole a glance at Alec, whose cheeks had reddened even more. “This I have to see.”

Izzy crammed onto the bench next to Magnus, handing over her phone. On her screen was a Twitter thread from this morning that began with a picture of sun streaming through a bottle of Gallant’s vitamin water, situated in front of a very familiar bank of windows overlooking Brooklyn. The caption accompanying the picture read _morning stretches before practice_ , and Izzy had pulled up a string of replies between the Angels’ athletic trainer and Alec:

 

_Replying to @Lightwoodsaves_

_back problems?_

_Replying to @Kadir_

_no need for an extra session today_

_Replying to @Lightwoodsaves_

_the other kind of night, huh?_

_Replying to @Kadir_

_yeah, you could definitely say that_

 

Magnus laughed. He’d have to ask Alec later how that conversation had come about.

Izzy fixed her gaze on Alec. “Didn’t you think I would notice that the accounts I’ve been maintaining for the last three years were suddenly flooded with notifications?”

Alec shrugged. “Just keeping up my end of the contract with Gallant.”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Then there was the picture of the two of you that a lovely woman named Mathilde posted on Twitter last night.”

“Oh, I want to see that one,” Magnus said.

Alec leveled Magnus with a look whose fond exasperation was clear despite his sunglasses.

“Plus,” Izzy said with a shrug. “Jace told me. We did a sparring session together at the gym yesterday, then he kept me updated via text as the night went on.”

“Of course Jace did,” Alec groaned.

Izzy delivered that news casually, and Alec’s reply was just as laced with annoyance as Magnus would’ve expected, but Magnus’ heart soared. The two halves of Alec’s life were finally coming together.

Magnus brushed a hand reassuringly over Alec’s arm before turning to face the youngest Lightwood. “Good morning, Max.”

“Magnus,” Max acknowledged. “Saving any of that cinnamon roll for me?”

Magnus held out the box for Max, but Alec stood and gave Max his seat.

Max dropped down next to him without hesitation, digging in, and Izzy leaned over to snatch a piece for herself as she flipped through the pictures Alec had posted—one only minutes ago, a vivacious bloom of flowers then a slew of others leading back to last night and a picture of two drinks sitting on Magnus’ kitchen countertop.

Which reminded Magnus….

“Come by my loft later,” Magnus said to Max. “I have a gift for you.”

Max smirked. “What a coincidence. So do I.”

Magnus looked up just in time to catch Alec smiling as he snapped off a pic of all three of them.

 

****

 

Alec shouldered his duffel as he pushed through the arena door and stopped short at the sight of Lydia and Jace congregated in the hallway—leaned in toward each other, talking in hushed voices. At the sound of the door slamming shut, both of them quieted and looked over at Alec, mouths opening in tandem.

Alec held up his hand. “Look. I know both of you want to talk about…Nashville, but I had a great night last night and a relaxing morning. I have four days until I have to see him. If neither of you has something to tell me that has to be dealt with _at this exact second_ to prevent my world from crashing down around me—again—can we save the drama for later?”

Neither of them spoke. Alec arched an eyebrow, waiting.

Lydia punched Jace on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me he got back together with Magnus?”

“Ow!” Jace complained as he reeled back. “I didn’t know I was allowed to.”

Alec rolled his eyes and started toward the locker room. “You already told Izzy. Plus, last night wasn’t clear enough?”

“When I left you and Magnus at Raphael’s, though….” Jace said as he caught up to him.

“It was fine. Better than—” Alec stopped himself and glanced at Lydia. “Whatever.” He entered the locker room and dropped his bag on the bench, smirking. “We’re not having this conversation in front of my agent.”

“Whoa,” Lydia protested. “This is how it’s gonna be, Lightwood?”

“Get used to it, Branwell.”

Lydia flashed him a grin and stalked across the locker room to Romanov, slipping a business card out of her pocket. “Why don’t you give that number a call so you can see what a hot blonde with intelligence can do for your career.”

Romanov watched her leave with his jaw hanging open as Jace chuckled.

As soon as she was gone, Romanov eyed Jace. “You told her what I said?”

Jace shrugged. “She _would_ be good for your career. Give her a call.”

At least Jace and Lydia’s friendship seemed to be okay, even though Magnus had confirmed Jace and Clary were together now.

Alec shook his head at Jace, then settled into the routine of stripping down and gearing up, the usual cacophony of his teammates heightened by the promise of the finals, now only days away. Unlike the last few practices though, Jace held back when he’d usually be one of the first on the ice.

“You coming, Captains?” Bosch asked. He was the last of the defensemen in the locker room.

“We need to have a…Co-Captain discussion. Go on ahead.” Jace waited for Bosch to clear out then faced Alec. “We really do need to talk about Raj.”

“We don’t,” Alec insisted. “I forgave him a long time ago and he doesn’t even try to interact with me. It will be fine.”

“The guys should know—”

Alec’s glare silenced Jace. “I have the right to tell anyone I want that I’m gay, but I’m not going to out him.” Alec shook his head. “Can you imagine him doing that to me?”

Jace ran his fingers through his hair, wincing. “Shit. I’m sorry, you’re right.”

“Plus, bringing up who Raj was to me doesn’t explain why our relationship is the way it is. I’d have to talk about Max and the accident and after with my parents…. I can’t do that.”

“You’ve barely done that with me,” Jace said. “But you and I have never been great with heart-to-heart talks.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “ _This_ is one, Jace.”

Jace huffed out a laugh.

Alec knew their conversation could’ve ended there, as so many of their talks had lately—with Alec’s life as the focus. But it was time to bring some balance back into their lives.

Alec pulled his jersey on and looked up at Jace. “So. Things are good for you off the ice now?”

“Focus, Alec,” Jace chastised him. “There is no life except for on the ice from now on.”

And with that, he tromped off for the rink.

“Speak for yourself, Co-Captain!” Alec yelled to his retreating form.

Jace flipped him off with a laugh.

Before Alec finished putting on his gear, he picked up his cell and sent a text to Magnus— _Jace says I’m not allowed to have a life outside of hockey now that the finals are coming. You think I’d have enough water to drown him if I melted the rink?_

_Worth trying_ , Magnus replied immediately. _Probably a better way to die than the paperwork I’ll be drowning in today_

As Alec was typing out a response, a picture popped up of Magnus with an exaggerated scowl on his face, his chin tipped up as papers rained down on him from above.

Alec laughed and erased his initial response, retyping— _You and Clary have too much time on your hands_

_She may have squealed when I told her you and I went on a date last night_

Alec’s cell pinged with a new message from Clary— _Sue me. I’m just happy the people I love are happy_

_Get back to work, Fray_

_Love u too Alec_

Alec tapped back over to his thread with Magnus— _Looks like you have a recycling bin to refill. If you chip any nail polish I’ll repaint them later for you_

_That may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. See you later, my Alexander_

Alec grinned.

_See you tonight_

Alec tossed his cell into his bag—excited for practice and, for the first time in weeks, excited about how he’d spend his night when he got home.

 

****

 

Magnus rebalanced the grocery bag in his hand as he unlocked the security door to his building and pushed into the lobby.

With Alec and Tessa’s contracts settled and Jace’s well on its way to being finalized, there was little on the horizon—work-wise—that Magnus saw as a challenge. Normally if he found himself in this spot, he’d be throwing himself into the grind of being on the road and seeing what new business he could stir up—losing himself in a job he loved because downtime meant thinking. But that was the thing—he’d buried himself in order to push aside the complexities of his own life that he didn’t want to face. And if he was going to be good to himself, he couldn’t do that anymore.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told Alec that he’d done nothing yesterday, but he had done a lot of thinking. Giving himself the space and time to mentally wander down roads he hadn’t traveled. And to envision where, and with whom, that road wandered next.

He had a foster mother half a world away that he’d been pushing aside for decades, a biological father he was dangerously curious about, a boss who expected him to perform even more miracles, an expanding group of friends whose lives he cared about just as much as they cared about his, and Alec….

His work and his private life were inextricably intertwined since Alec had entered his life, and as much as he’d fought to maintain that separation in the beginning, he wanted to eliminate it now. Needed to.

He just didn’t know how to make that happen yet.

He plodded into his kitchen as the door clicked shut behind him, stopping short when he caught sight of a shirtless goalie stretched out on the pillows by the windows, the Chairman sleeping on his back.

Alec opened his eyes, catching Magnus’ gaze, and smiled. “I let myself in after practice.”

Magnus couldn’t help the responding grin that stretched across his face, all worry draining away. He needed to deal with the scars of his past, the questions about his job, and the trajectory of his future, but he didn’t have to do it alone.

“Good.” He dropped his mail and groceries off at the counter and crossed the room, crouching down next to Alec to kiss him. “I picked up chicken and some fresh vegetables to make an almond rice salad for dinner. I assumed that would fit with your diet.”

“Thank you. Need any help?”

Magnus shook his head. “Sleep as long as you want.”

Both Alec and Chairman tucked their heads in again and Magnus headed for the kitchen, untucking his shirt and unbuttoning the top few buttons against the heat filling the loft from the open window. He cooked as quietly as he could, and when he was done, he uncorked a bottle of wine and left it to breathe.

Life-essential chores completed, Magnus headed toward the windows for the life-affirming ones. He shooed his cat away and straddled Alec’s waist, kissing his way up Alec’s spine. “Dinner is ready.”

Alec hummed.

“Still no rush, though.” There would no longer be any rush when he had his hands and lips on this much shower-fresh skin. “The rice will stay warm in the pot for at least an hour.”

“Good,” Alec mumbled sleepily. “I like this.”

“The beautiful part of an arrangement like this,” Magnus said as he dropped kisses across Alec’s shoulders, “is that the more surface area two objects share, the stronger they are. It’s science.”

Alec huffed out a laugh. “I love science. But there’s something digging into my back.”

“That, Alexander, is my belly chain.”

Alec dropped his forehead to the floor with a thud. “Oh my god, Magnus.”

Before Magnus quite knew what was happening, he was being manhandled as Alec flipped over. Magnus tipped to the side precariously before Alec’s hands grasped his hips, holding him steady.

Alec’s fingers teased at Magnus’ skin. “Show me?”

Magnus bit back a smirk and started slowly undoing his buttons. His last second addition of the belly chain this morning now seemed like the best of decisions. “As you saw from my text, today was a particularly tedious day, so I found my mind wandering.”

Alec wasn’t even looking him in the eye, completely fixated on Magnus fingers. “Oh yeah? About what?”

“You.”

Alec looked to him then, hazel eyes gone dark. “I figured from the mischievous tone. What about me?”

_Fingering, rimming, Alec moaning as Magnus found every way possible to make Alec’s first time as pleasurable as possible…._

Magnus undid the last of his buttons. “All the ways I can…prepare you.”

Alec’s shoulders lifted with a deep breath. “Fuck. Okay. Yeah, let’s do…that. But first….” Alec lifted Magnus and sat forward, flipping Magnus onto his back and hovering over him. “I need to appreciate that chain.”

Magnus huffed out a shocked breath. “Is this what it’s always like dating an athlete? I call unsportsmanlike conduct.”

Alec pushed Magnus’ shirt off his shoulders. “Are you blowing the whistle and calling stop to play?”

“I believe you were about to blow my whistle.”

“Inappropriate, Magnus.” Alec bit at his lip. He kissed Magnus’ stomach and undid the top button on Magnus’ pants. “And true.”

Magnus lifted his hips and Alec tugged his pants down, a hitch to his breath when his eyes landed on the chain.

“What is your fascination with this thing?” Magnus asked, taking in Alec’s lingering gaze on the gold chain.

Alec hooked his fingers over the gold, fingertips grazing the delicate material and nails brushing against Magnus’ skin, raising chillbumps. “This is just as styled as your makeup, just as deliberately chosen and beautiful as your clothes, but this accessory….” Alec trailed his lips over the metal. “Only I get to see this.”

Magnus shivered as Alec flattened his palms on Magnus’ stomach and his tongue flicked out against his skin and the metal. Alec mouthed at the chain, and nipped at it, teeth catching on skin and gold…. Until the chain snapped between his teeth.

Magnus gasped in shock and Alec’s shoulders shook with restrained laughter. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

Magnus scowled. “You’re not.”

Alec shook his head, smirking. “Not at all.”

Alec hungrily licked at his cock then, hands sliding up his torso and circling Magnus’ ribs as he enveloped Magnus’ dick in his mouth. Magnus thumped his head to the floor, hopelessly, happily lost in the warm slide of Alec’s mouth on him. He would buy one hundred belly chains, and endure each one being torn apart, if the destruction resulted in Alec expertly working him over like this.

“Fuck, Alexander.” Alec’s beard scratched against the inside of his thighs as Alec licked at his balls and drew them into his mouth. “That beard.”

Alec hummed against him and the sensation rippled to Magnus’ toes. He popped off and kissed Magnus’ thigh. “You like it.”

“I’ve told you that before,” Magnus rasped out.

“You’ve vaguely insinuated,” Alec said as he rubbed his cheek on the inside of Magnus’ thighs, “but I don’t think you’ve actually confirmed you like it, let alone why.”

“I’ll compose an epic poem later,” Magnus gritted out, “just—”

Magnus cried out as Alec swallowed him down again, lips brushing the hair at the base of his shaft. The tight, wet heat of Alec’s mouth drew him out and Magnus pumped his hips up. His breath quickened, chest heaving, and nails scratching at the floor for purchase. Alec’s eyes locked to Magnus’ as his lips slid over Magnus’ cock. Magnus threaded his fingers through Alec’s hair and fucked into his mouth, Alec’s eyes slipping closed on a moan. Magnus hadn’t known there was a world-altering combination of tongue, teeth, lips, and delicious pressure followed by maddening teasing, but Alec had unlocked the secret. Then Alec added hands—calloused fingers tracing over his hips, palms skating over skin, hands coaxing his legs farther apart, and Alec slipped a spit-slick finger over Magnus’ rim. Magnus couldn’t hold out any longer. He cried out a warning, a plea, and emptied into Alec’s throat.

Alec kissed at Magnus’ hipbones, sending shivers up his spine as Alec’s beard scratched against his stomach. Magnus fought to catch his breath, feeling boneless and weak, then Alec looked up at him, hazel eyes dark with lust and said, “Your turn now.”

There truly was no rest for the wicked.

Magnus twisted his fingers in Alec’s hair and tugged gently. “Bedroom.”

With the ease befitting someone who practiced daily how to spring from his knees to his feet, Alec pulled Magnus up and stalked toward the bed. Magnus swayed, joints still loose and seemingly disconnected from their usual spots, and Alec wrapped him up, kissing Magnus as he walked them both backwards until they were falling onto the mattress.

Alec’s swollen, reddened lips glistened and his thin workout shorts left little to the imagination.

Magnus placed his palms on the bed and twirled his finger. “Turn over.”

Alec obeyed without hesitation, pillowing his head on his arms and inhaling deeply. Magnus slid his hands up the back of Alec’s legs and under Alec’s shorts and Alec’s eyes slipped closed on a shuddering breath. Magnus slipped Alec’s shorts down and swept them off, this time straddling Alec’s ass so Alec could feel all of him against his skin.

“How adventurous are you feeling?” Magnus asked.

Alec pressed his ass up. “I trust you.”

Magnus draped himself over Alec and reached for the nightstand, extracting the bottle he needed, then laid on Alec’s back, drawing Alec’s earlobe between his teeth. “Tell me if we need to stop. I want to make this good for you.”

Alec nodded, his bottom lip clamped between his teeth.

Magnus kissed him until the set of Alec’s shoulders eased, then took his time working down Alec’s back with his hands and mouth, until Alec was pliant beneath him and Alec’s hips lazily rolled, rutting himself against the sheets. Magnus situated himself between Alec’s legs and he popped the bottle open. “This is one of my favorite lubes….” He paused to let that fact sink in before he added, “It tastes like vanilla.”

Alec groaned—low and deep—and spread his legs farther.

Magnus slicked his fingers, then palmed Alec’s ass with one hand and merely circled his finger over Alec’s hole. “Breathe, Alexander.”

Alec’s shoulder muscles flexed as he buried his face in the sheets and his chest expanded on a deep breath.

Magnus kept his touch light, allowing Alec to get used to the amplified sensation until he was pushing back against Magnus’ hand.

“More, Magnus.”

The rough timbre of Alec’s voice shot straight to Magnus’ groin and despite just getting off minutes ago, his cock began to swell. Magnus dipped down and kissed at the curve of Alec’s ass, inhaling the scent of Alec’s skin, tinged with the lemongrass of Magnus’ soap.

Magnus dragged the length of his finger over Alec’s hole, spreading the lube. “After practice, you took a shower here, didn’t you?”

“Used all the shower heads….” Alec mumbled into the sheets. “To their fullest extent.”

“You and the shower.” Magnus nipped at Alec’s ass, eliciting a yelp from Alec. “You’re going to make me come again without even touching me, Alexander.” Magnus could see just enough of Alec’s face to know he was smiling. “Remember, tell me if you need to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Magnus licked a swipe over Alec’s hole.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

Magnus smiled. “Need to stop?”

Alec shook his head. “ _Definitely_ don’t.”

Magnus licked and sucked slowly, fingers, tongue and lips working him over until Alec’s hips took on a desperate rhythm that had him pushing back into Magnus mouth and thrusting against the sheets as indecent moans slipped from his lips. Magnus’ head spun. Making Alec this wrecked was intoxicating.

Alec lifted his hips, groaning. “I need—”

Magnus fisted Alec’s cock and he cried out, legs shaking as he shot into Magnus’ hand. The sight of Alec’s muscular body bowing in pleasure was too much to bear. He used Alec’s come to slick his own cock, then dug one hand into Alec’s hip and pumped himself with the other until he was coming over Alec’s back.

“I’m just going to die here,” Alec mumbled as he slumped into the mattress.

Magnus could barely breathe, but a laugh escaped his lungs anyway.

He swiped Alec clean with the top sheet and tossed it off the side of the bed, too fucked out to think about moving more than a few inches, and collapsed onto the bed next to Alec. “I think I’m going to have to go shopping for a few extra sets of sheets. Or ten.”

Alec pulled Magnus in and kissed his shoulder, slumping into him as they got their breathing under control again.

Magnus circled his arms around Alec and smiled.

None of the relationships Magnus had been in before had ever felt this…effortless when it came to sex. There was no negotiation, just a synchronous push and pull—a balance of giving and taking—where he always felt connected to Alec. But, perhaps, that was because he trusted Alec. And Alec trusted him.

It was freeing.

“So,” Magnus tested, relatively sure he already knew how Alec would answer. “Is that something you’d like to try again?”

“Oh yeah.”

Alec huffed out a laugh and his beard tickled at Magnus’ oversensitive skin.

“I do adore your beard,” Magnus said, running his fingers along Alec’s jawline. “But it’s getting out of control.”

“I haven’t clipped it since the morning you last did. I, uh…. I guess I was waiting, hoping you would.”

“You should pick up your trimmer from your apartment the next time you’re there. I don’t know if my scissors would be sharp enough to tame this beast.”

Alec’s shook his head. “I don’t like going back to my apartment since…everything.”

_Then move in with me_ , was on the tip of Magnus’ tongue. Instead, he ran his fingers through Alec’s hair as he considered what the right answer to that was for now. “Well, then. We’ll just have to find a way to make some good memories there too. Positive reinforcement.”

“I like the sound of that,” Alec admitted. He lifted his head and coaxed Magnus onto his side, molding his chest to Magnus’ back. “But not tonight. I picked up more clothes on the way here…and a toothbrush.”

Magnus smiled at that. “Hopefully it’s already nestled next to mine?”

“Like two spoons in a drawer.”

Alec kissed the back of Magnus’ neck and slid his hand around Magnus’ chest, curling his fingers in and Magnus couldn’t help it—he jumped when Alec’s fingers dug into one of the most sensitive parts of his ribs.

Alec sat up, his eyes wide as he peered over Magnus’ shoulder. “Oh my god, are you ticklish?”

“You sounded like Max there,” Magnus deflected.

“Are you?” Alec pressed. The gleam in his eyes was way too aware for Magnus. He dug his fingers into Magnus’ side again and the giggle that escaped Magnus’ lips couldn’t be helped, and the full belly laugh that followed that giggle most definitely couldn’t be contained.

“This is completely undignified, Alexander!” he protested under Alec’s assault.

Alec didn’t relent. “It’s positive reinforcement.”

“We’re not in your apartment.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be there.” Alec stilled and a frown passed over his lips for a heartbeat, then he was smirking. “I’d miss the Chairman too much.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Of course you would. Let’s get cleaned up and eat.”

Alec smirked and rolled out of bed.

“I know what you were thinking,” Magnus said as he eyed the playful smile on Alec’s lips. “Both of us may have just eaten, but neither of us can survive on sex alone.”

Alec shrugged. “Doesn’t mean we can’t try.”

Magnus chuckled. “Indeed.”

The rice was little better than lukewarm once they both showered and made their way back into the kitchen, but Alec didn’t seem to care. He dug in with relish. Magnus poured them both glasses of wine and sat down next to Alec, falling into a conversation about Magnus’ plans for the party on Saturday.

A knock at the door interrupted Magnus and he glared at it—not wanting any interlopers in their afterglow—until he heard the voice on the other side.

“Only open this door if both of you are clothed.”

Magnus crossed the room and opened the door just enough for Max to see him, but not the entire apartment. “How do you know Alec is here at all?”

Max rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. This is a nice building, but the walls aren’t _that_ thick.”

“Fuck,” Alec groaned from behind him.

Max chuckled. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I saw Alec walk in here earlier and I decided to leave him alone.”

“For once,” Alec called out.

Magnus grinned and opened the door. “To what do we owe the honor?”

Max lifted a cat carrier in his hand. “The lease on my old place by school is up in a few days, so I’m finally moving everything over, and that includes Church. I thought it was time he and the Chairman met.”

Magnus glanced at Chairman Meow, his tail flicking behind him where he sat by the windows. “Not on the couch. I like that couch.”

Alec stepped up and grabbed Church’s carrier, a low hiss already emanating from it. “I got this.”

Magnus watched warily as Alec crossed the room and set the carrier down a few feet from Chairman, then sat down on the floor between the two of them.

“You also said you have a present for me?” Max asked, bringing Magnus’ attention back to him.

“I do. Technically, for your leg’s birthday.”

Magnus lifted the package from the counter and offered it to Max.

Max set the thick envelope in his hands down so he could grab the box, cackling as he ripped away the paper from the glass boot. “This is so dumb. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Even better….” Magnus held up a finger and opened the refrigerator. “It comes with beer.”

“You’re the best boyfriend-in-law ever.” Max tore open the box and started to reach for the beer, then slid the envelope he’d brought with him across the counter to Magnus. “And for you. Whatever you do, don’t open it in front of Alec.”

Max hadn’t even attempted to keep his voice down, and Alec smirked from his spot on the floor, but kept his focus on the open door of the carrier and Chairman peeking around Alec’s knee to peer inside.

Magnus picked up the envelope and turned it over in his hands. “There are too many possibilities of what this could be, and all of them are lewd.”

“Exactly.”

Magnus scoffed fondly and gestured to the counter where all the ingredients for dinner were still laid out. “Would you like something to eat?”

“I’m in college,” Max said as he sat down, cracking open his beer and pouring it into the boot. “I’ll never say no to free food.”

Magnus glanced at Alec, who now had a very furry and very grumpy white cat on one side of his lap and the Chairman bumping against his elbow trying to coax Alec into letting him onto the other side.

“About you being in college….” Magnus ventured as he put together a plate for Max. “Clary told me what you did with your parents. You took on the apartment next door for Alec and I, and I’d like to help—”

“No way,” Max cut in. “Not happening.”

“Max. You shouldn’t have to worry about money.”

“Good luck, Magnus,” Alec called out. “He won’t take any of my money either.”

“Maybe because I don’t need it.”

Alec narrowed his eyes. “You gave _everything_ back to our parents.”

“And dad put all that money back in my account—so I opened a new one. But yeah, I don’t need anything. One of the venture capitalists I met with months ago decided to make an initial investment. It’s a fraction of what I need, but it’ll cover my apartment, workspace, and supply costs for about a year. It’s a start. And I’ll take loans out next year for school.” He shrugged. “I’m good.”

Alec grinned and lifted Church off his lap, getting to his feet. “Max. That’s _huge_.”

Low hisses emanated from both Church and the Chairman’s throats as they stared each other down, now only inches away from each other, and everyone froze.

Alec glanced at Magnus and Max, then back at the feline standoff at his feet. “Should I…?”

Max sipped at his beer. “Just give them a minute. The claws always come out first in a Lightwood-Bane introduction, but they’ll figure it out.”

Magnus locked eyes with Alec. _They will learn how to love each other eventually too._

Alec scratched at his beard, a telling shade of pink rising on his cheeks. He cleared his throat and smiled at Magnus, then refocused on his brother. “I’m really proud of you, Max.”

Magnus was too. He stood and grabbed one of his rarest whiskey vintages off the bar. “This deserves a toast.”

 

****

 

Alec rubbed at his eyes, clicked off his iPad, and stretched his legs out onto the coffee table, resting his head on the couch—he didn’t need to watch anymore tape of the Predators. He was already prepared for a defense that was one of the highest scoring in the league, and the forwards…. He trusted his own defensive players would keep them in check and clear of his net. It was his mental game that had to be solid in this series, and being here—in Magnus’ loft—was helping him clear his head better than any practice could.

This was the third night in a row that he’d spent at Magnus’, and he had yet to bring up the subject of Raj with Magnus since the night Nashville had won the western conference finals, just like Magnus hadn’t brought up anything else about his past. But it wasn’t like either of them was holding back either. They were merely skimming the surface and learning about each other, just as any new couple would, despite the fact that both of them were well aware of the chasms that existed below the surface for both of them. But that was territory that wasn’t unknown or uncharted at this point, and they’d go back there again when they needed to.

All he’d wanted was time and space for them to get things right, and now they had it in these few days left before the finals started and their lives were upended again, for a very different reason.

The sound of stirrings came from the bedroom and Magnus emerged, stumbling over Chairman sleeping directly in the middle of the floor, and wearing only an oversized navy t-shirt emblazoned with _Goalies have bigger sticks_ in white block lettering.

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Max?”

Magnus grinned. “The one and only.”

Alec chuckled. “Another one of his designs?”

“If so it has a limited—and wholly captive—audience.” Magnus leaned down and kissed him. “I was surprised to wake up without you.”

“I got an interesting text from Luke at six am.”

Magnus dropped onto the couch at the other end and poked his toes into Alec’s thigh. “Is it normal for him to be texting you at such an ungodly hour?”

“He knows that I’d usually be awake before then.” Alec tossed his iPad onto the coffee table and lifted Magnus’ legs onto his lap. “He was asking about coming to your party.”

“While Luke seems like a lovely person, I don’t recall his name being on the invite list.”

Alec ran his hands over Magnus’ legs as he considered how Magnus was going to take this news. “But Cat’s is.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow.

“They’re dating.”

Magnus’ eyes widened. “That _is_ interesting. I didn’t realize they even knew each other.”

“I didn’t either.” But it was clear now how Cat and Ragnor had gotten into the arena the day they’d come to see him. “Apparently, they met through this initiative Cat is working on with the Angels and her hospital.”

“Ah, the project with Susanna. Catarina mentioned that, but neglected to fill in some vital details. I’ll send her a tersely worded text later for holding out on me when she’d so thoroughly inserted herself into _our_ relationship.”

Alec stilled. “Oh. So you know I met her?”

“I do. She told me.”

“I, uh…. I only met her that one time,” Alec said, skipping over exactly what Cat had told Magnus. He didn’t remember everything he’d said to her and Ragnor that day, but he knew all of it had come from the heart. “But from what you’ve told me about her…. I like the idea of Luke and her.”

“I do too,” Magnus confessed. “I hope you told Luke it was okay to come.”

“It wasn’t that he didn’t feel welcome,” Alec explained. “More like he wanted to make sure _I_ was okay with him being there.”

“Are you?”

“He’s my coach, but he’s also….” Alec furrowed his brow as he searched for the right word.

“A father figure?” Magnus tried.

“I guess? Yeah. But like the cool dad?” Alec huffed out a laugh. “Fuck. He would murder me if he ever knew I said that.”

Magnus mimed zipping his lips closed and Alec smiled.

“Anyway, I was wide awake after that and I didn't want to wake you up.”

Magnus grinned and blatantly rubbed his leg over Alec’s groin. “I do enjoy my beauty sleep, but I'll always answer a wake up call from you.”

Alec skimmed his hands up Magnus’ legs, stopping when he realized there was a cloth barrier between him and his destination. He quirked an eyebrow. “Underwear?”

“Unfortunately. I’m expecting a delivery at any moment.” A knock echoed through the apartment, and Magnus swung his legs off Alec’s lap and to the floor. “And there it is.”

“You’re going to answer the door in that shirt?”

“It’s just Danny. I asked him to bring something by.” Magnus glanced over his shoulder before opening the door. “May I?”

Danny’d already seen them holding hands, witnessed Alec arriving at night and leaving in the morning multiple times, and in the last two days using his keys to get past the security door instead of buzzing Danny for access. It was likely that Danny was the only person outside of their friends and family who knew about their relationship.

Alec felt a blush crawling up his neck, but had to chuckle. “Go for it.”

Magnus opened the door with a sweeping flourish. “Good morning, Daniel.”

“Good morning. I have that—” Danny’s voice trailed off as his gaze locked to Magnus’ t-shirt, then flitted to Alec. “Uh. Hey, Alec.”

Alec’s cheeks were an inferno but he found the strength to wave. “Morning.”

Danny’s brow creased then he refocused on Magnus, handing him an envelope. “Anyway, I picked up that package from IE.”

“Thank you,” Magnus said, accepting the envelope. “How is your bourbon stash?”

“I wouldn't say no if you have something new.”

Magnus sashayed to the bar and plucked a sealed bottle off the shelf. “This one tastes better when shared with a partner. Or _on_ a partner. Of whichever gender you choose.”

Alec restrained a laugh at Danny’s mortification. Magnus was shameless, and Alec loved every second of it.

“Thanks?” Danny said as he accepted the bottle.

“You're welcome.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll see you guys around?”

“Bye, Danny,” Alec answered, finally letting out his laugh once the door was closed. “Stop traumatizing the straights, Magnus.”

Magnus winked. “What fun would that be?”

Alec shook his head as he got up from the couch. He pressed a kiss to Magnus’ cheek then poured a cup of coffee for Magnus, glancing over his shoulder as he mixed in the sugar and cream. “You want some breakfast?”

“I’d love some, but first….” Magnus slid the envelope across the counter toward Alec. “This is your contract. Lydia and I reviewed it at the office yesterday but we wanted legal to go through it before you signed. All it needs now is your signature.”

Alec’s hand froze mid-stir and he stared at the envelope. “It's real.”

“Very.”

Alec blew out a long breath. “Holy shit.”

Magnus sat down and pulled out the other stool for Alec. Alec handed Magnus’ coffee to him with shaking hands then slid the stack of papers out of the envelope as he sat down.

“This is the biggest deal I’ve ever negotiated,” Magnus said. He set a pen down next to Alec. “And of course it means more to me because it was for you, but it also means more because of who you are. You’re not the first gay man to sign a professional contract, but you’re likely the first to sit in front of a general manager and state that before a negotiation. No matter what happens from here…. I’m proud of you, Alexander.”

“You may be the first out sports agent to negotiate any contract of this scale.”

Magnus tipped his head. “And yet it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.”

“One step at a time, Magnus. We can’t change the world with one contract.” Alec picked up the pen and flipped through the pages, signing his life over to the Angels for the next five years. “Do you have to do something with this? Or can I drop it off at the arena?”

“Let me make a copy, then you can hand deliver it to Susanna if you’d like.” Magnus leaned forward and kissed Alec, then picked up the contract and headed for his office, talking over his shoulder. “I have some errands I have to run after work for the party tomorrow. How about we spend the night at your place tonight? I can meet you there after I’m done.”

Alec scowled. “I guess….”

Magnus paused in the door to his office and faced Alec. “It’s okay if you want a night to yourself—”

“Fuck that,” Alec cut in. “Until we have to do it because either one of us traveling, I don’t want to spend a night away from you.”

Magnus smiled shyly. “I’ll see you after work then.”

“But first…?” Alec licked his lips and smirked. “Celebratory breakfast?”

Magnus tossed the contract onto his desk, and a heartbeat later his underwear pooled at his feet, all shyness wiped away. “Definitely breakfast first.”

 

****

 

“Green, blue, or gold?” Magnus asked Izzy, holding up the strands of lights so she could consider all three.

Izzy crossed her arms, thinking. “What’s the decor at Pandemonium?”

“Black on black. Like Raphael’s soul.”

“Then all three.”

Magnus nodded and dropped multiple strands of all three colors into the already-packed shopping cart.

“Oooo!” Izzy called out, rushing down the aisle. “Confetti cannons!”

Magnus grinned. “Raphael will hate them. Get two. No. Four.”

“So how many people are you expecting for this?” Izzy asked as she obligingly piled them in the cart.

Magnus shrugged. “Somewhere around one hundred, but the guest list continues to shift. I’ve rented out the entire VIP level, so we’ll have plenty of room.”

“ _Dios_ ,” Izzy said, her red lips growing into a wide grin. “It feels like ages since I went dancing.”

“You have to save one dance for me, sunshine.”

Izzy looped her arm in his. “Of course I will. _If_ Alec will let you go for that long.”

Magnus smirked. “I didn’t plan the party around his timeline, because well…you know.” Izzy nodded in understanding. “But I’m glad it’s worked out that all of you can make it.”

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “One last hurrah before the stress of the finals.”

“Indeed.”

“How does he seem to be handling it all?”

“He’s handling it in a very…Alec way.” He hadn’t heard Raj’s name pass Alec’s lips at all since the night the Predators had won, but that was okay. Alec needed time to think and ponder, and he trusted Alec to talk when he was ready. More than that, if Alec didn’t talk, he felt comfortable enough now to press.

“And you?” Izzy asked.

“What about me?”

“How are you handling the…possibilities with Raj?”

“I’m trying not to think about him,” Magnus answered honestly. “Or what seeing him will be like for you and Max as well, not just Alec.”

Izzy tucked her hair behind her ear as she let go of him to rummage through a bin of plastic bead necklaces. “I already asked Simon to hide my pointiest stilettos until the finals are over.”

“I figured I’d have to worry more about _Max_ taking a shot at Raj.”

“That’s not his style. If anything, Max would verbally cut him to shreds.” Magnus had to concede that point. Izzy shook her head, brow furrowing. “But I think it’s more likely that Max would shake his hand if he came face-to-face with him.”

Magnus considered that. “He is empathetic.”

“Much more so than either Alec or me.”

“Speaking of,” Magnus said as he glanced at his vibrating cell with Alec's name on his screen. He picked up the call. “Good evening, Alexander.”

“Hey.” The affection in Alec's voice elicited pleasant shivers that radiated down to Magnus’ toes. “So I was thinking…. Since we have to be in Brooklyn tomorrow for the party anyway, maybe we should just crash at the loft tonight. That way we could sleep in.”

“Or not.” Magnus grinned at Alec’s quiet laugh. “Okay. Another night in Brooklyn it is.”

“Great. I’m already here, but I’ll make a run back to my place and pick up some clothes for tomorrow night.”

“I’m with Isabelle now and we’re in Manhattan. I assume she has a key to your place”—he glanced up and Izzy nodded—“I could stop by and pick something up for you.”

“It’s probably better if you and Iz dress me anyway.”

“You may live to regret this, Alexander.”

“Just…not a lot of skin, okay?”

Magnus doubted there would be _anything_ in Alec’s closet that would show skin. Unless Alec agreed to leaving more than a few buttons undone. Which Magnus would definitely have to make happen.

“Then how shall I traumatize the straights, Alexander?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” Alec said around a laugh. “I’ll get dinner started then, unless you’ve already eaten?”

“I haven’t.” He glanced at Izzy. “Are you and Simon available for dinner tonight?”

Izzy smiled. “Always for you.”

“Isabelle and Simon will be joining us too, so why don’t you see if Max wishes to grace us with his presence?”

“I will. I’ll see you all in a few hours.”

 

****

 

Magnus followed Izzy into Alec’s apartment, stuttering to a stop in the entryway. They’d left all the shopping bags downstairs for the doorman to load into Alec’s car for the trip back to Brooklyn, and Magnus regretted not having that distraction to focus on.

While his second visit had had a better ending than the first, Magnus’ stomach still clenched from unease. There was so little to indicate the man who inspired so much passion in Magnus lived here at all.

“I’ve only been here twice—with you that night after Sebastian, and the morning before Alec’s negotiation.” He toyed with his rings self-consciously. “How long has Alec lived here?”

“Two years now, but it could be a model home for all the effort he’s put into actually moving in,” Izzy answered. “Alec hasn’t had a real home since our parents kicked him out. He lived in the dorms at college, then an apartment with Jace, and when he went pro he had a studio in this neighborhood, but mostly crashed on my couch when he was in town.”

“He said he loves Gramercy.”

Izzy scoffed. “He loves the rooftop deck and the seedy bar around the corner—that’s Gramercy for Alec.”

“I promised him that we’d try to make better memories here.” Izzy didn’t respond, and Magnus turned to find Izzy smiling at him. He cleared his throat and looked away, his gaze landing on a solid black square next to the door. “Is this the infamous blackboard?”

Izzy nodded and Magnus shook the chalkpen next to it, then added an item to the bottom of Alec’s grocery list.

“Lucky Charms?” Izzy asked as she stepped up next to him. “Really, Magnus?”

“They truly are magically delicious. In fact, they should really release a special edition box that’s all rainbow marshmallows for Pride Month. Alec wouldn’t be able to eat them until after the finals, but I’d happily eat them for him.”

“It’s good to see you happy again, Magnus. You and Alec.”

Magnus peered down at her. “You were right. About how terrifying it is….”

Izzy raised an eyebrow.

“And about how Alec would stand with me.”

Izzy tucked her arm into his, smiling. “Let’s go pick out something for your man.”

 

****

 

Alec stretched out on the silk sheets, muscles protesting the movement—formerly rarely used muscles, now well plied. Magnus’ preparation was…thorough.

Thoroughly bone-melting.

“Okay. It may not be possible to survive on sex alone,” Alec said, turning his head to look at Magnus, lying next to him in bed. “But I do think it’s possible to die from it.”

Magnus swiped away the sweat on Alec’s forehead, then trailed his fingers through Alec’s beard. “We can’t have that happening.”

“I’m willing to risk it. More practice?”

Magnus grinned and pulled Alec into him, but resounding thuds echoed through the apartment, like someone was taking a battering ram to the door.

“Magnus! Open up! Is Alec still in there?”

“Fuck,” Alec swore. “Is that Simon?”

Magnus glowered and Alec had to chuckle at the sheer frustration painted on Magnus’ face at being interrupted, even though both of them had already come once this morning.

Alec planted a kiss on Magnus’ lips and got out of bed, throwing on the clothes he’d discarded last night. “I’ll go see what he wants.”

Alec unlocked the door and Simon entered in a flurry of waving hands, skewed glasses, and anxiety. “Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

Alec crossed his arms and frowned. “We just woke up.”

“We’ve actually been awake for at least an hour,” Magnus said as he came out of the bedroom, pulling on a t-shirt that said _Goalies know how to go down_.

Alec restrained a laugh and refocused on Simon. “What’s up? Is everyone okay?”

“ _I’m_ not okay!” Simon protested. “Izzy just told me that Raphael Santiago is going to let me put out flyers at Pandemonium for my band’s next gig, but Clary has the boxes of my flyers at her place ‘cause she picked them up from the printer, and apparently she went out of town or something and _she’s_ not answering _her_ phone, but I have to be at the arena in less than an hour _and_ find some way to get those to Pandemonium. And I need a car ‘cause I can’t carry them myself and a cab? I mean, have you looked at me? I’m a mess, right? No cab will stop for me now, let alone wait to let me load boxes in and unload them. And Raphael Santiago— I mean, it’s Pandemonium!”

“We haven’t even showered,” Alec pointed out.

“There’s no time!”

Magnus sighed heavily. “How many boxes are there, Simon?”

“I think four? Maybe five? Could be eight?”

Alec shook his head in disbelief.

“We’ll get cleaned up and dressed— _quickly_ ,” Magnus added when Simon opened his mouth to complain. “Then we’ll go with you over to Clary’s. I have to drop the supplies and decorations for tonight off at Pandemonium anyway.”

The set of Simon’s shoulders eased. “Cool. Thanks.”

“You have a key to her place?” Alec asked.

Simon shook his head. “Don’t need one. The lock to her apartment door froze up months ago and the super hasn’t fixed it yet.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alec groaned. “Do we have time to stop by a hardware store?”

“What don’t you understand about _no time_?” He waved between Magnus and Alec. “Just shower together, it’ll save time.”

Magnus smirked. “Come on, Alexander. Let’s shower. Together. Simon _is_ in a rush.”

Simon pushed his glasses up. “Finally, someone is listening to me.”

“You take the first shower, Magnus,” Alec said, and before Simon could protest, he laughed. “Trust me, Si. Sharing won’t save time.”

 

****

 

“This is ridiculous,” Alec complained as he and Magnus headed up the stairs to Clary’s apartment, Simon mounting the steps ahead of them two at a time. “I don’t even like leaving my _car_ on the street here. How is it that I care more about Clary’s safety than she does?”

Magnus held the door open to Clary’s floor and smiled at Alec. “I texted the head of maintenance for IE’s headquarters on the way over here. She promised to come by tomorrow and work on Clary’s lock.”

Down the hallway, Simon twisted the knob to Clary’s door and pushed inside.

Alec huffed. “Thank—”

“Simon!” Clary screeched.

“Oh my god, my eyes!” Simon yelled.

“Lydia,” Magnus said at the same that Alec sighed, “Jace.”

Alec stared at Magnus. “What?”

Magnus’ eyebrows stitched together. “Clary and Lydia….”

Alec shook his head. “No. Jace and Clary…. Yesterday you said something about IE forms…. Wait. She’s dating _Lydia_?”

Alec’s feet caught up to his brain, propelling him forward after Magnus. Magnus stood in the apartment doorway with one eyebrow raised, then turned to lock eyes with Alec. “Or Clary, Lydia, _and_ Jace. Now _that_ is interesting.”

Alec peeked around the corner, the blood draining from his face when he saw more of his friends than he’d ever wanted to.

Lydia cleared her throat as she wrapped a blanket around herself and tossed Jace’s underwear to him. “Hey, Alec. Magnus.”

Alec scrubbed his hands over his face, wishing he could eradicate the image in front of him from his brain. “ _Now_ are you going to get your locks fixed, Fray?”

Clary rolled her eyes and tugged on the hem of Jace’s shirt.

Simon stood in the entryway, both his hands over his mouth and wide eyes focused on Jace. “Oh my god. I’m _not_ straight. Am I? How am I going to explain this to Izzy?”

Jace just grinned and shrugged.

“Oh, Simon,” Clary said, snatching her pants off the couch. “I think you may be the last to know.”

“ _I_ didn’t know!” Alec protested.

Magnus smirked and twirled his finger through the air. “While there’s apparently a whole host of sexual awakenings happening in this moment, I, for one, would prefer if there was a little less skin to accompany it.”

“Yes. That.” Alec yanked Simon into the hallway, shutting the door behind he, Simon, and Magnus. He leveled Simon with a glare. “I am buying you and Izzy a car. I’ll even pay for parking. No arguments.”

Simon nodded, his skin deathly pale. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

Magnus chuckled. “Apparently it’s possible to traumatize the gays too.”

Alec felt a smile tugging at his lips, then Lydia opened the door with a sheepish grin on her face. Alec sighed. “You. Start talking.”

Alec warily glanced inside the apartment, verifying that everyone was clothed before walking into the living room. He eyed Jace, who was leaned against the windows with his arms crossed. The corners of Jace’s lips tipped into a smirk and Alec huffed.

Magnus followed behind him, gesturing at Lydia. “You were the mysterious flower sender, correct?”

A blush popped up on Clary’s cheeks that matched her hair perfectly.

Lydia sat down next to Clary on the couch, nodding. “I ran into Clary a few times at the gym where she and Izzy are taking that kickboxing class and I didn’t know what I was feeling and had no idea what she was feeling, but yeah, um, I sent her the flowers—quite a few flowers actually—and there seemed to be something there.”

Alec furrowed his brow. “But I thought you and Jace….”

“I was the one who encouraged Lydia to give it a shot,” Jace admitted.

Clary tucked her hair behind her ear as she glanced at Jace. “Then Lydia started telling me stories about her and Jace…. And we spent that night with Will, Jem, and Tessa at the Gallant Launch Event, and Lydia….”

Lydia shrugged. “I have no regrets.”

Alec blinked. Realized what Clary was saying. “You’ve been together for a _month_? It’s like I’ve been living with my eyes closed.”

“I just wanted my flyers,” Simon groaned.

“You know I’ve been trying to figure stuff out since John died,” Lydia said, her voice softening. “Jace has been an important part of that and now…Clary is too.”

Alec exhaled. “Is there _anyone_ straight in this room?”

Jace raised his hand. “Well, as far as I know. But if Clary, Lydia, and Simon are just figuring it out….” Jace shrugged.

Alec lifted his eyes to the heavens, sighing. “Magnus. Help.”

Magnus crossed his arms, slipping into his professional persona. “I expect that all three of you will be filling out your conflict of interest statements with HR on Monday morning.” He sniffed. “And congratulations.”

Alec glared at Magnus. “Traitor.”

Lydia smiled at that. “Seriously, Alec, are you mad?”

Alec took a deep breath. These were three of his favorite people in the world. He wasn’t mad, he was…worried. He looked at Lydia, at Clary, both of them waiting for his answer, then last to Jace.

Jace held his gaze for a moment, reading Alec just as effortlessly as he had for decades. “This isn’t a fling, Alec.”

Alec relaxed and scratched at his beard. “Then I can’t wait to see how this improves your game.”

Jace grinned, his dimples popping out as he ducked his head.

“I just want you to be happy,” Alec said, meeting Clary’s eyes.

Clary blushed and Lydia clasped her hand. “Thanks.”

“Now that we’re clear that no one here is straight and everyone is happy,” Simon called out. “Can we deliver my flyers, please?”

 

****

 

Magnus grinned as he looked up at Alec. “One…. Two…. Three!”

He pulled the trigger on his confetti cannon at the same time as Alec, showering the dance floor below them in a stream of colorful paper, the excited shouts of the crowd overpowering the music thumping out of the speakers.

On the dance floor, Izzy and Tessa raised their arms into the air, laughing as Will took the opportunity to snake his hands around their waists and plant a kiss on both their cheeks. In the DJ booth, Simon smacked Jem’s arm and pointed down, both of them fondly shaking their heads before they went back to sorting through records, feeding their favorites to the house DJ.

As the confetti began to settle, Magnus glanced down the line of VIP booths, where Ragnor and Jace were embroiled in some sort of discussion that involved copious amounts of eye rolling and sighing, and yet they’d been at it for at least fifteen minutes.

Across from he and Alec, Luke and Cat had taken over one of the VIP booths where they held court with Maia, Max, and Raphael flitting in and out, but Luke was currently standing outside the booth, talking with Clary. It was a conversation that had started with both of them in defensive postures, but Clary was nodding now, leaning in to listen to him, and when they parted, Lydia took her hand and led her out to the dance floor.

Alec’s line of sight followed Magnus’—tracking Clary and Lydia through the crowd—and Alec shook his head, leaning his forearms on the railing. “I’m still…processing that they’re together.”

“One thing is certain,” Magnus said, “Lydia is even better at negotiating than I gave her credit for.”

Alec laughed at that. “And I always thought I didn’t know anyone who wasn’t straight.”

“Sometimes a tribe just needs one brave leader to step forward first.”

Alec pursed his lips in a failed attempt at hiding his smile and Magnus matched Alec’s posture, sliding closer to him so their shoulders brushed.

“I’m really not upset at them,” Alec said after a moment. “I just don’t want any of them to get hurt.”

“Will, Jem, and Tessa have made it work for years now,” Magnus pointed out. “Polyamory really isn’t that different from any other relationship with two people—it always takes honesty, trust, and effort to stay together.”

“I would say I’d kill Jace if he hurts either one of them, but I’m very sure Lydia and Clary would do it themselves.” Alec shook his head. “And it’s possible Jace is the most emotionally vulnerable out of all three of them.”

“They’re all dominant personalities, but Lydia is headstrong and analytical, Jace is impetuous and fearless, and Clary is creative and open with her affection. There’s a balance there that just could work.”

“I hope it does,” Alec stated. He tipped his chin up, surveying the packed VIP booths that surrounded the level above the dance floor. “So how many of the people you invited do you actually know well?”

He hadn’t introduced Alec around, and that had been for a reason. “The question really is—how many know _me_ well? And the answer is very few of them. Most of them are acquaintances I can have a pleasant conversation with, clients, or people I find interesting.”

Alec nodded, seemingly taking that information in, then he leaned into Magnus, a smile on his lips. “Did you know that the day I met you, Izzy told me that your parties were legendary?”

“I’m sure that inspired nothing but confidence in your new agent,” Magnus said wryly and Alec chuckled. “And now? How would you rate this one?”

“I’m not really a party kind of guy, but this is okay.” Alec shrugged. “I guess.”

Magnus gasped. “That is unacceptable. As a host, I want all my guests to be satisfied at the end of the night. Pray tell, how do I make this night _great_ for you?”

“I want to dance with you.”

The gleam in Alec’s eyes was telling. His answer even more so. But Alec had signed more than a few autographs tonight already, and Magnus was cognizant that there were too many cell phones here and a whole host of sports reporters descending on New York for the finals as they spoke.

Magnus smiled sadly. “I know you’re ready to be out, but Isabelle told me she advised you to wait until after the finals, and I agree. We have time.”

Alec scratched his fingers through his beard, and glanced over his shoulder at the corner booth they’d commandeered early in the night. “Then come back here with me.”

Magnus’ heartbeat sped as Alec untied the curtains, shutting them off from the rest of the club and grabbed Magnus by the hips.

“While we are hidden from prying eyes,” Magnus mused. “This is slightly suspicious.”

“I don’t care. I’ve wanted to do this since that night in LA.”

Magnus had no idea what song blasted through the speakers, but his body fell immediately into rhythm with Alec’s. A rhythm now familiar from hours spent with the slide of Alec’s naked body against his. Instead of the tentative exploration of hands that had driven him mad in LA, Alec’s gripped him tightly and lowered his lips to Magnus’ neck.

He lifted the hem of Alec’s shirt—the one skin-tight blue shirt he’d found in Alec’s closet, and had known it would frame his muscles perfectly—and dipped his fingers below Alec’s waistband, pulling Alec’s body flush with his.

The bass shook the floor beneath his feet, his heartbeat syncing with the driving beat, and just as Alec had done to him in LA, Magnus coaxed Alec’s legs apart, bringing them impossibly closer, rutting against Alec to the pounding beat.

He curled his fingers into Alec’s skin, and let Alec take over. Alec pressed back with his hips and nipped at Magnus’ neck, but it was Alec’s hand—palm skating over Magnus’ chest where he’d left his buttons undone to an indecent level—that made Magnus forget they were supposed to be dancing at all.

He bent backwards and Alec followed him, one strong hand on his back, and Alec chasing his lips. Magnus wanted, needed, to give in. He knew the texture and terrain of Alec’s skin, and he craved that warmth against him, inside him.

In LA, the frustration had been that he couldn’t have Alec. Now, it was that he could—but not here.

“If we don’t stop, Alexander,” Magnus rasped out. “I’m going to beg you to fuck me right here.”

Alec smirked at that, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’m guessing this isn’t that kind of club, though.”

Magnus shook his head. “No. And you are not that kind of man.”

“I’m not,” Alec admitted, pulling Magnus back to standing. “Not yet.”

Alec let that declaration fall as if it was a hockey puck and not a nuclear bomb, and dropped into the seat behind him, swiping the sweat off his forehead.

Magnus chuckled. Dear god, what had he gotten himself into?

He grabbed one of the water bottles on the table and twisted it open, offering it to Alec. “I think water would be good now.”

Alec accepted the bottle with a smile and patted the seat. “Come sit next to me.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow.

Alec held up his hands. “I promise to keep my hands off you. For now.”

Magnus gave in, settling in at Alec’s side, and realized immediately that was a mistake. He’d been on his feet all night—greeting guests, ensuring booths were stocked with drinks, managing the bouncers to ensure only his party made it onto the VIP level…. And now that he was sitting down in a room where the lights were low, they were barricaded from the chaos of the rest of the club, and he had Alec’s reassuring presence at this side, a wave of exhaustion rolled through him. The appearance of gray hairs had to be imminent.

“How much longer do you want to stay?” Magnus asked.

Alec shrugged. “I have to be at the arena by ten at the latest for Media Day. Aren’t you going to be there?”

“Lydia and I both,” Magnus confirmed.

“Good.” Alec twisted in his seat to face Magnus. “Press conferences are painful enough, but there’s going to be eight hundred reporters from across the world at the arena tomorrow, and I can’t avoid any of them. It’s going to be like a waking nightmare.”

Alec offered the bottle of water to Magnus, and Magnus took a deep drink. “Spending hours in front of reporters scares you more than playing for a championship you’ve been working toward for two decades?”

“Yeah.”

Magnus inhaled and set the bottle of water down on the table, gathered his strength and faced Alec. “But it’s also Raj.”

Alec’s brow furrowed as he looked away, nodding.

Magnus leaned forward and lifted his hand, smoothing out the worry lines etched between Alec’s brows. “I’ll be there tomorrow, _and_ after you’re done being hounded by the press, _and_ through every game of the finals.”

He’d be there as long as Alec would have him.

“I know you will.” Alec kissed his palm, then clasped Magnus’ hand as he stood. “Come on. It’s almost two am, let’s go home.”

Magnus stood with him, readjusting his shirt. “I suppose it is a good night for positive reinforcement. I’ll need to stop by my place for clothes, but your apartment _is_ closer to the arena, and—”

“Not my apartment, Magnus,” Alec cut in. His gaze bored into Magnus. “Yours.”

Magnus’ breath caught and a calm settled over him. He stepped up to Alec and pressed a kiss to his lips, settling his hand over Alec’s heart. “Alright, Alexander. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who’s ready for the finals?
> 
> only five chapters left to go….
> 
> i’m on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic and twitter @authorsamcauley ♡ xx


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> magnus' and alec’s pasts catch up to the present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. how about a show of hands of everyone who wondered if this chapter wasn’t going to happen at all? don’t be shy, i’m raising my hand too :) if you don’t follow me on insta or twitter, then you may not have seen my update that i’ve been dealing with some [health issues](https://www.instagram.com/p/BYidrjMnXxh/?taken-by=authorsamcauley). they were pretty damn scary there for awhile and it took a long fucking time to get a diagnosis, but after months of med adjustments and rest, i’ve begun recovering. still a long road ahead, but i have hope.
> 
> hope and also a lot more words??? it’s been so long and yet we find ourselves here again, back to the seemingly never-ending saga that ITSB has become. i was absolutely sure that after the third arc (chapters 13-18) that the word count of each chapter would get significantly shorter. omfg i was SO WRONG. this chapter is almost 50k words. someone send out the official SOS because i’m lost somewhere in this alternate universe and can’t find my way out. maybe that’s a good thing?
> 
> i'll be checking the #ITSB tag on tumblr and twitter as usual, but won't be reblogging, responding, or retweeting until at least 36 hours has passed. i read every single message you tag me or the fic in, tho. y'all are my writer fuel. thank you.
> 
> a massive thank you to my betas too. jfc i dropped this ungodly chapter on them with little warning and they maneuvered the peaks and valleys like fucking pros. they've stood by me every painful step of the way bringing this chapter to life. i'm pretty sure at this point i'm past owing y'all drinks and i should just each buy you your own bar. i adore you meg, jaimie, kristen, and lora.
> 
> a few reminders on the hockey stuff, the angels’ are headed into the finals, the last round of a “best of seven” series where whoever wins four games wins the championship. they’re up against the western conference champions, the nashville predators, whose top line center is raj. however, both teams first have to face "media day" (the all-day press junket before the finals) before they face off against each other.
> 
> i think the only hockey term used in this chapter that needs explanation is “waivers”--a process by which a team waives their right to a player (for any number of reasons) and the other teams in the league have a limited amount of time to “claim” that player or pass.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of past abuse and trauma, ptsd-like symptoms, homophobic assholes, and unintentional outing (not alec’s)
> 
> character note: the rufus that appears in this fic (angels’ outgoing general manager) isn’t the rufus (warlock) on the show
> 
> everyone welcome back “plot” to the story : ) we had our break of lingering happiness and now…. well….
> 
> here we go.

Magnus rested his elbows on his desk and tried to feel anything but numb.

His party at Pandemonium had gone spectacularly well, and he’d capped off the night just like he’d begged Alec when they were dancing. But just as he’d been about to fall asleep, his cell had pinged….

That had been hours ago. Hours of staring at his laptop screen and listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall of his home office as it crept closer to five am.

Even after hours of research and soul-searching, he still didn’t know how to answer Siti’s messages.

He leaned back and pulled his robe tighter around himself, tears prickling at his eyes as one thought repeated over and over in his head.

_I’m not okay._

He’d known for a while now that he wasn’t okay, but this realization was deeper. Less fleeting and more insistent. His bones ached like a log hollowed out by fire—charred and strikingly aware of damage that could not be undone.

And yet, he also felt nothing at all.

Magnus sighed.

He needed to sleep. He really did. Because tomorrow—no, _today_ —was going to be challenging enough.

He closed his laptop and crept back into the bedroom, hoping not to wake Alec. Just as he was removing his robe, Alec lifted the sheets—his eyes still closed—silently beckoning Magnus into his arms. Magnus fell into the bed, seeking safety and comfort, and Alec’s arms circled over him once Magnus was settled on his side.

“Are you okay?” Alec asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before he’d opened his safe to Alec, Magnus would’ve lied or attempted to scuttle his emotions into the shadows, unwilling to give voice to his own doubt, but now….

He shook his head, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Alec held him tighter.

And that one single act—of Alec drawing him closer, silently comforting him when Magnus had admitted to a weakness—made his tears finally fall. In relief. In sadness. In hope.

Alec kissed the back of his neck. “What do you need?”

_This_ , he wanted to say. But that wasn’t the full truth. Alec was an important piece of his life, but only one piece. “I don’t know.”

Alec’s chest pressed into his back, his hands tightening around Magnus’. “We’ll figure it out, Magnus. We will.”

_We_.

Magnus inhaled a shaky breath and kissed Alec’s fingers.

Tonight, that one word—those two simple letters—was all he needed to hear. His numbness wasn’t gone, but Alec’s reassurance was enough for now.

Enough for him to sink into the protection of Alec’s arms and sleep.

 

****

 

Alec tugged at the cuffs of his royal blue athletic shirt, sleeves emblazoned with the NYBA logo, and surveyed the packed Marlowe’s Club—situated on the lower level next to the ice and the locker rooms. Over the heads of reporters—so, so many reporters—he sought out a hint of spiky black hair, or the customary parting of the crowd that indicated the presence of greatness. Every square inch of the exclusive, high-dollar room was filled with the glint of camera lights, bright smiles, and joyful laughter, but to Alec, it all appeared so…dull. Uninspired.

Alec frowned.

Magnus definitely wasn’t here yet.

Natalie, the Angels’ PR person standing next to him, tapped on his arm. “Alec?”

Alec forced a smile as he peered down at her. “Sorry. I got distracted there for a second.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “So as I was saying, you have interviews with NBCSN at ten thirty, Hockey News at ten forty-five, then we’ll regroup at eleven for the next round. Oh, and Outsports made a last-minute request to interview you if you’re willing to add one more in the afternoon.”

The mention of the LGBTQ-focused sports outlet was enough to bring a smile to his face, even though it was short-lived. “Sure. I’d be happy to.”

“Great. If you can’t find me, we have staff around who can help you find your way.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Alec.” Natalie fiddled with her headset and covered the mic at the end. “I can say no to Outsports, if you want.”

Alec’s mouth opened with a practiced, vague platitude on his lips, then he remembered that Natalie had already been in discussions with Izzy. He’d spent all morning with her—interacting with her just as he usually would—but he hadn’t even realized until this moment that she knew he was gay. He hadn’t had to officially come out to her, and yet she’d still calmly guided him through the press junkets he loathed. No battle needed at all. The realization gave him an unexpected kick of happiness.

“I definitely want to talk to them,” he confirmed.

“Okay.” Natalie leaned in, whispering. “Is there anything else I can help you with? You look even more unsettled than usual.”

Alec clasped his hands behind his back and ran his fingertips over his bracelet. “It’s just….”

Where the fuck did he begin?

Raj….

Eight hundred reporters….

The finals….

But most of all, Magnus.

He couldn’t shake the worry he’d been carrying since Magnus had joined him in bed again last night. Magnus hadn’t needed to be at the arena nearly as early as Alec, and the exhaustion etched into Magnus’ features—bleary-eyed, yet insisting he could get up and travel in with Alec—had been enough for Alec to tuck the covers up around Magnus’ shoulders, place a kiss on cheeks that had been wet with tears the night before, and insist that Magnus sleep for a bit longer.

He hadn’t wanted to leave Magnus at all.

Over the last week, he’d learned that Magnus was often in and out of bed multiple times before the sun rose—driven out of sleep by the endless, brilliant machinations of his brain. This insomnia felt different, though…. They hadn’t been sleeping in the same bed for long, but Alec had spent the last two months studying, cataloging, and memorizing Magnus’ actions and words. This restlessness—this sadness—was something bigger. Yet undefined.

So Alec had grabbed his gear bag on the way out the door and spent his first minutes in the arena today putting together a gift. Not for any gift tally or, worse, pity. He simply wanted to show Magnus he wasn’t alone.

There was nothing he could do for Magnus in this exact second, though, and, no matter how competent Natalie was, this definitely wasn’t something she could help him with. Alec scrubbed his hand through his hair and refocused on his job. “It’s just…. This is _chaos_.”

“It’s well-controlled chaos, don’t worry.”

She didn’t pat his arm again, but her voice took on a similarly comforting tone. _Damn_. He needed to get his shit together if the PR person was coddling him.

Alec rolled his shoulders and smiled down at her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t forget there’s food in the break room. And here”—Natalie reached over to a table—“take a bottle of water.”

Alec accepted the bottle, picking at the edges of the customized label with the league championship logo plastered on the front. “I promise I’m okay.”

She schooled her features in a way that reminded Alec of Izzy when she was in full professional mode and wasn’t buying a thing he was saying. “I’ll catch up with you at eleven.”

Alec nodded and watched her walk away, essentially leaving him alone in a crowded room.

He sighed.

Today the arena felt like enemy territory instead of his second home. The Angels’ players freely mixed with the Predators’, a truce of sorts before their rivalry took hold tomorrow. He and Jace had already met up with the Preds’ captain to officially welcome the team to New York, but besides that one-minute interaction, Alec had avoided all other Preds’ players—players he would be facing on the ice tomorrow. Alec swallowed thickly. _Fuck_. He’d be playing in the first game of the league championship series _tomorrow_. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead that he swiped away with his arm.

He glanced at his watch to see how much time he had before he had to take Jace’s place at the NBCSN set-up, then looked down at his mangled water bottle and calculated just how many minutes he had to fill before people started noticing how nervous he was. When someone tapped him on the arm, he nearly dumped the water all over his shirt.

“You look a bit like a deer trapped in the headlights of a semi,” Lydia said.

Alec grimaced and took a swig of his water.

“Just starting to realize that this is really happening?”

Alec glanced down at her. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Magnus texted me. He got held up, but he’ll be here in ten minutes.”

Alec breathed out a sigh of relief. He’d had to keep his cell in his cubby to prevent himself from checking it every two seconds. His edginess receded knowing that Magnus was going to be here soon.

“Have you—” Alec scanned the room again before leaning into Lydia. “Have you seen Raj yet?”

Lydia’s shoulders lifted with a deep inhale. “Yes. I met his fiancée this morning.”

Alec clenched his jaw.

Lydia took in his restrained reaction and turned to face him, urging him with her proximity to solely pay attention to her. “I worked with the PR staff to stagger your interviews, so you shouldn’t have to run into him at all.”

“Are you serious?” Alec gaped.

Lydia shrugged. “I mean, I can’t _guarantee_ anything, but in theory you should be good.”

If they hadn’t been in front of what felt like ten thousand cameras, then he would’ve hugged her. But Izzy had been able to shift any coverage of the two of them to focus on them being friends and now work colleagues. It was a balance—one truth of his life he could actually live out in the open—that he didn’t want to mess with.

“Fuck. Thank you.”

Lydia grinned. “Just don’t let me catch you using any language like that in your interviews.”

Alec chuffed and pointed the water bottle at her. “No fucking promises, Branwell.”

“Go have fun, Lightwood.”

After that, his day took on a tone that was less death row and more prison yard—a marginal improvement, but still an improvement. He was almost done with his NBCSN interview when he caught sight of Jace cutting through the madness and pulling Magnus in under his arm. Magnus rolled his eyes and Jace continued blathering on, either oblivious to Magnus’ reaction or not caring. Knowing Jace, he was likely more satisfied that he’d been able to elicit a reaction at all.

Alec followed their path as Jace steered Magnus over to the NBCSN area. He searched Magnus for any sign of discontent—his brows stitched together in deep thought, or his thumb tracing over the line of his finger—but Alec would be the only person in the room who knew Magnus had barely slept last night.

Magnus strode through the crowd with his usual flair of confidence. He’d chosen to wear an expertly-tailored dark blue suit, one with hints of gold woven throughout the fabric that Alec was only able to pick up because of the glaring camera lights. Heads turned as he made his way through the crowd, but Magnus wasn’t paying attention to any of them.

He caught eyes with Alec, a smirk pulling at his glossed mouth. Then, he winked. The responding smile on Alec’s lips couldn’t be controlled. Whatever Magnus was working through hadn’t completely stifled his playfulness. It hadn’t overtaken the joy in his eyes.

The knot in Alec’s stomach lessened, loosened.

“Alec?”

Alec laughed softly and refocused on the interviewer. “Sorry, I lost track there for a minute. What was the question?”

“Probably something hockey related,” the interviewer joked.

“Really?” He shrugged and took a sip of his water. “I don’t know anything about hockey.”

The interviewer waved around the room. “All evidence seems to say something else.”

“Take another shot. I promise to pay attention this time.”

The NBCSN reporter caught sight of Jace settling in next to the camera and smirked. “Tell us about taking on the co-captain role with Jace Wayland.”

The spark in the interviewer’s eyes showed he was looking for the same cavalier responses he usually got from Jace, but this was something Alec took seriously. “Jace has been a great leader for this team. That the rest of the Angels seem to view me on the same level as him is humbling.”

Jace reached over the interviewer, dropped a twenty-dollar bill into Alec’s hand and the interviewer chuckled.

“I thought we agreed on a hundred,” Alec teased, waving the bill.

“Next time, make sure to slip in my status as a hockey god,” Jace shot back.

The responding smile on Magnus’ lips returned the color and excitement to the room for Alec.

“In all seriousness,” he said, scratching a hand through his beard as he thought, “Coach Garroway has spent the last three years pushing us to be our best and building a team with true depth. Jace and I may be co-captains on the ice, but the strength of this team is our unity and trust. We all work well together and we work hard to balance each other out. I think you’ll see that reflected on the scoreboard tomorrow.”

“Do you think the Angels are a stronger team than the Predators?”

Alec sat up straighter and locked eyes with the reporter. Magnus’ reassuring presence bolstered his confidence. “Yeah, I do.”

“Thank you, Alec.”

Alec shook the reporter’s hand and stood up, pushing past the cameras. He couldn’t greet Magnus the way he wanted to—a bruising kiss to the lips would likely be noticed by a few people. He merely brushed his hand over Magnus’ stomach as he passed by, silently urging him to follow.

He led Magnus and Jace toward the Angels’ PR table, relaxing even more when he heard Magnus laugh at something Jace said. For the first time in hours, he didn’t mind the crowd. The chaos of Media Day felt much more controlled with Magnus at his back.

“Do you have that bag I set aside, Natalie?” Alec asked as he leaned over the table.

He rolled up his sleeve, checking the time and ensuring he had a few more minutes before his next interview. He’d been waiting all morning to see Magnus, he didn’t want to wait one more second to give him his present.

“Yeah, right here.” Natalie swiped up an Angels’ gift bag and set it on the table. “Also, I had to switch your schedule around. You’re talking with Outsports next. Is that okay?”

Alec glanced over his shoulder at Magnus—caught up in a conversation with Jace and Emil Pangborn. Now Magnus would be able to see this interview. “It’s perfect.”

“Great. I’ll let them know.”

Alec stepped through the crowd, catching eyes with Magnus as he approached. Magnus had left his suit coat open, showcasing slim slacks that hugged his hips. Alec could only imagine that the view from the back was just as good as the front. There were too many cameras and cell phones trained on him, but Alec couldn’t keep himself from looking. Appreciating. No. He was _leering_ and there wasn’t a damn thing to do about it. Magnus looked too good.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Mr. Lightwood.”

“You as well, Mr. Bane,” Alec answered with utmost professionalism. Okay, and a hint of a smile. He dangled the straps of the bag on his fingertips and held it out. “All the VIP guests are leaving with Angels’ promotional material, but this was packed especially for you.” He smirked as he leaned in, pitching his voice low. “Let’s keep the contents between you and me.”

“Damn,” Emil breathed out. “That was bold.”

Magnus’ gaze locked to Alec’s and he licked his lips, a suppressed smile tugging at the corners.

“Am I interrupting anything, gentlemen?” Lydia asked as she slid into their group next to Alec.

Emil bumped his shoulder against Alec’s. “Just Lightwood schooling all of us on the art of seduction.”

Jace badly stifled a laugh, his dimples popping out.

Emil turned to him. “Alright. What did I miss?”

Jace caught Alec’s eyes, a devilish look in his gaze. “Just remembering the first time I saw Alec in action.”

The first crush Alec had had after Jace. The center from an opposing team who Alec hadn’t been able to form a coherent sentence in front of—let alone stay focused on training. A summer spent in Lake Placid with sun on their skin, ice under their feet, and Jace teasing him that it was too bad they were all required to wear protective cups or maybe Alec would’ve had more ‘surface area’ available to actually block one of the guy’s shots.

“Jace,” Alec warned.

“I _need_ to hear this story,” Magnus begged.

When Alec glowered, Jace leaned into Magnus. “Remind me to tell you when he’s not around.”

“I am positively weak with anticipation.”

“I gotta hear this too,” Emil said. “Until a few weeks ago, I thought Alec’s default settings were grumpy and stoic.”

Even Alec had to laugh at that. “Yeah, well you try and deal with Jace finding every way possible to make ‘drills’ an innuendo.”

Jace shrugged. “It’s really not that…hard.”

Magnus grinned and held out his fist for Jace to bump.

Alec rolled his eyes. “The two of you have been spending way too much time together.”

“Speaking of,” Magnus said to Jace, “when is your next round of interviews?”

“Pangborn and I are up with the league network next.”

Alec couldn’t help but frown. He’d known they’d be balancing competing schedules throughout the day, but now that he had Magnus in front of him, he didn’t want him to go. Especially for this next interview.

Alec was scratching at his beard, trying to think of a reason to need Magnus more than Jace did—Magnus was Jace’s agent after all—when Lydia’s gaze slid from him to Magnus.

“Actually, Magnus,” Lydia said. “I just spoke with a rep from Bauer and they’d like to have a preliminary discussion about an endorsement deal with Alec. If you don’t mind missing Jace’s interview, I’d like to talk to run over possible contract parameters with you. Join me?”

Magnus looked to Jace who simply grinned and looped his arm around Emil’s shoulders. “We’ll catch up later.”

Magnus smiled coyly. “I’d be delighted to join you, Lydia.”

 Alec didn’t bother to hide his relief as he tipped his head toward the back of the room. “I’m this way.”

“Alec,” the Outsports reporter greeted as he approached. “Thank you for being willing to fit us in at the last minute.”

Alec shook the reporter’s hand and settled into the stool in front of their camera set up. “Of course. I, uh—” Alec cleared his throat and glanced at Magnus, confidently poised behind the camera next to Lydia, both of them focused on him and clearly not talking business. Months ago, he never would’ve imagined admitting this out loud, but, “I’ve been following your coverage of the Summer Olympics. You give a voice to all athletes. The work you do…. It’s important. Thank you for wanting to talk to me.”

The reporter’s eyes widened as he sat down next to Alec. “I didn’t know you were a fan of the site.”

“I’m always a fan of great reporting. So what can I answer for you?”

“Actually….” The reporter glanced at the camera to ensure they were recording. With a nod from the producer and the cameraperson he continued, “We know you’ve probably spent all morning answering a lot of the same questions worded in slightly different ways, but we really don’t have any hockey questions for you.”

No hockey questions.

Did they know he was gay?

Weeks ago, Alec’s heartbeat would’ve sped. His sweat glands would’ve drained like a busted dam. But Outsports had a strict policy against outing anyone, and even if they did ask…?

The reporter had said “we” not “I.” Alec glanced at the cameraperson and producer. Unlike the other news outlets he’d spoken with, this was a team of LGBTQ and ally professionals who’d likely chosen this line of work because they didn’t just believe in Outsports’ mission, they wanted to live it. The cameraperson wicked sweat from their upper lip and the producer shifted from one foot to the other. They were unsure about how he was going to react to whatever was coming next.

But Alec wasn’t. At all.

He smiled. “Go for it.”

The reporter held out his hand and the producer passed him a piece of fabric that Alec recognized immediately. “This is a pride flag….” His brow furrowed and he paused before lifting his shoulders with a deep breath and unfurling it, draping it in front of him. “Our producer was contacted by You Can Play. The kids who attended your goalie clinic in Pittsburgh wanted us to give this to you. It’s signed by all of them.”

Alec’s chest tightened as his gaze ran over the signatures and notes penned across the rainbow surface. “May I?”

The reporter smiled softly and handed the flag over.

Alec pointed at one of the signatures and looked up at the reporter. “Marcus is the one who stopped Jace’s shot.”

“I remember you talking about him in one of your press conferences.”

“It wasn’t just that shot. Marcus….” How could he begin to explain how those hours with Marcus, only a day after coming out to his own teammates, had shifted how he saw his world? “He has a bright future ahead of him, no matter what he chooses to do. They all do.”

“They made quite an impression on you.”

“I think I learned more from them than they did from me.”

Alec lifted his eyes to Magnus and had to immediately look away when he saw the shine in Magnus’ eyes and the gentle smile on his lips.

He cleared his throat and gripped the flag tighter. “Thank you for bringing this. Can I— Do you mind if we take a minute so I can record a message for them? Is that something you could send to them?”

“We’d love that.”

Alec gathered his strength and faced the camera. “This means…everything to me. Thank you. I’m going to hang this in my locker and carry it with me to Nashville. I—” Alec paused. He didn’t know when he was going to come out and what the reaction would be, but there was one promise he could make to every one of those kids. “I’ll keep working to make you as proud of me as I am of all of you.”

 

****

 

Magnus exited the arena and slipped on his sunglasses. The sun sat low in its arc, betraying just how much of this stunning summer day he’d spent indoors, and yet he felt like he’d been basking in it for hours.

He hadn’t missed the worry etched on Alec’s face when they’d first seen each other this morning, but he hadn’t needed to fake any excitement after seeing Alec poised behind those cameras. The frenetic energy of Media Day had bolstered his own confidence, which in turn seemed to heighten Alec’s confidence as well. A feedback loop that had kept them both smiling, despite their shared and individual worries. Because of Alec, he’d been able to push aside the questions multiplying in his head for the vast majority of the day.

He hitched the straps of the VIP Angels’ gift bag into the crook of his elbow, protecting it from the bustle of the Midtown crowd. He pondered the unknown, yet precious, contents of the bag on his arm. This gift, no matter the contents, reassured him that Alec was thinking about him. Despite the immense pressure facing Alec, Alec wanted to help.

He just had to find a way to talk to Alec about it.

He slipped his cell out of his pocket when it buzzed against his side, Izzy’s name flashing across the screen. “Good afternoon, sunshine.”

“Hey, Magnus. Are you still at the arena?”

“I’m just leaving now. Is there something you need?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on social media, but I wanted to get a feel from you on how it all went.”

“Jace was as cavalier and arrogant as usual. Also extraordinarily charming, but I will deny that if you share that with him. And Alec….” He couldn’t erase the image of Alec’s face as he held that pride flag from his thoughts. “I’ll let him share the particulars with you.”

“Good particulars or bad?”

“Breathtakingly perfect ones.”

“Good. What are you two planning for tonight?”

“Alec has requested a quiet night in. I’m meeting him back at the loft after he’s done. I was just about to text Max and beg for a night of peace. Being in the finals…. This is a new situation for all of us, but I’m particularly concerned with ensuring Alec gets the time and space to do whatever it is he needs to do to be ready for tomorrow.”

“What about you?”

Magnus took a second to inhale and let the rays of the sun warm his skin. “A quiet night in sounds perfect to me too.”

“I get it. Sometimes you just need to hide away.”

Magnus furrowed his brow at the hints of defeat in her tone and stepped out of the crowd waiting at the crosswalk.

“And you? How are you?” Izzy remained silent and Magnus glanced at his phone to make sure the call was still connected. “Isabelle?”

“I’m just tired. It’s been a stressful few months.”

“It has. Are you….” Magnus bit at his lip and considered how much to press. While he and Izzy had been introduced to each other well before he’d known who Alec would become to him, Alec was still their main connection. He couldn’t recall one recent conversation with her that hadn’t revolved around Alec in some way or another. But he cared for her as a person, not just as Alec’s sister. “Are you and Simon okay?”

“My home life is perfect. _Simon_ is perfect. I feel petty even complaining, because what do I really have to complain about?”

Magnus sighed. No matter how much he’d wished for it last night, his conclusion hadn’t changed—a loving relationship couldn’t fend off all problems. Perhaps he and Izzy had more in common than just Alec after all. “Where are you now?”

“The office. Simon’s at band practice so I decided to come in, but I’m not having much luck focusing.”

Magnus stepped off the curb when the crowd began to move and ran through the route to Alicante in his head. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Magnus—”

“Shush, Isabelle,” Magnus said. He spotted a bakery on the corner and cut through a swath of determined pedestrians to survey the plates in the window. “Make it twenty minutes. The only choice you have in the matter is between chocolate and raspberry.”

Izzy laughed softly. “How about both?”

“Excellent. I’ll see you soon.”

Balancing two paper bags and the gift from Alec, Magnus sent off a text to Alec then made his way toward Alicante. Izzy had left a security badge for him at the front desk that allowed him access to an elevator that whisked him to one of the top floors of the soaring office building. Magnus tracked through the silent hallways of Alicante’s C-suite floor and toward the open doorway of Izzy’s office. He lifted his hand to knock and caught sight of her silhouette against the Manhattan skyline, gazing out the windows with her arms crossed, hair hung loose down her back. Her chin was tipped defiantly toward the sky, like a queen overseeing her kingdom, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her unease.

Magnus stepped inside her office instead of knocking, dropping his bags in a nearby chair. “You couldn’t look more regal.”

Izzy turned to greet him, and only then did he see the tears in her eyes.

“I hear that Lightwoods like to hug,” he offered.

She opened her arms and he wrapped her into his own, holding her tight. “Alexander says hello.” Izzy tensed and Magnus shook his head. “I didn’t tell him why I was coming by, just that I was stopping by to see you.”

Izzy squeezed him tighter. “Thank you.”

“I brought baked goods,” Magnus said as he stepped back. “And a mini-bottle of Moscato. The baker said it paired well with the cookies, and really, who am I to argue obvious dessert expertise? Where might I find glasses?”

Izzy’s brows stitched together. “Just one mini bottle?”

“I actually brought two—one for each of us. But I didn’t want to presume.”

Izzy laughed at that and swiped at her eyes. “Presume away. Personally, I’m the kind of girl who can drink straight from the bottle.”

“I knew I was in esteemed company.”

Magnus swiped up his bags as Izzy kicked off her heels. She slumped into her desk chair, tucking her legs up beside her and leaning on the elbow rest. Despite the day of the week and the uninhabited office, Izzy wore a high-waisted pencil skirt and expertly-tailored purple dress shirt. Perfectly manicured nails clicked against the arm rest and she bit at her signature red lips.

Just like Magnus, she too had armed herself with accessories today.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about the past a lot today.” Magnus pulled up a chair next to hers and opened the first bag, extracting a bottle of wine. He twisted the top off and handed it to her. “Do you remember the night we met?”

Izzy accepted the bottle and clinked it against Magnus’ when he had his opened. “The real story, or the one we agreed to tell people?”

Magnus smirked. “Both are interesting.”

“But only the real one ends with you gallantly saving my favorite pair of McQueens. That bartender should have known I wasn’t twenty-one yet. My fake ID was awful.”

“Oh, he did. His intentions that night were _not_ gentlemanly.”

“I was too drunk to notice. It’s good you did.”

“I didn’t either at first, to be quite honest.” Magnus took a healthy swig of his wine and sunk into the memory. “Cat was the one who pointed you out and told me I needed to intervene, since it was my party. I was too…wrapped up in yet another fight with Camille to notice anything around me besides maintaining a neuron-erasing level of liquor in my glass.”

Izzy shook her head and lifted a chocolate and raspberry cookie from the bag. “Same.”

“Then we ended up on that curb….”

“And you let me rest my feet across your legs so my ‘fabulous’ shoes wouldn’t touch the gutter. But you were really saving them from the upending you knew was coming of all those drinks.”

Magnus sighed with dramatic flourish. “They were beautiful shoes.”

“Then I ended up in tears.”

Magnus laughed quietly and dug into the bag himself. “We both did, sunshine.”

“We did, didn’t we? I don’t remember enough about our conversation to know why though.”

Magnus sighed and put the cookie back. Despite how much he’d attempted to drink that night, no amount of alcohol had been enough to erase the hurt. “You were talking about your mother. A story I now see in an overly-illuminated new light, but at the time, all I could think about was my own mom.”

With that, Izzy fell silent. She finished off her cookie and set her bottle aside, wrapping her arms around herself. Her eyes were fixed toward the windows, but the distance in her stare spoke to an inward-focused gaze. “How are you really, Magnus?”

Magnus inhaled deeply and set his bottle aside too. “I’m not okay.”

“Me either.”

The set of Izzy’s shoulders melted with their shared confessions and she reached across the distance between them, grasping Magnus’ hand.

“You know, that night….” Magnus began. “I remember seeing a gorgeous young woman who could use some help, but that wasn’t why I helped. I recognized a high level of intelligence behind your eyes—of knowledge begging to be drowned—and yet undeniable strength. I had no doubt you could’ve taken care of yourself, even while inebriated, and _especially_ in those shoes.” Izzy laughed and squeezed his hand. “But I think that maybe I was drawn to the fire inside you because my own dying embers were drifting into ash. You saved me that night.”

Izzy furrowed her brow. “How so?”

“When my mother died, I lost a woman who loved me unconditionally—you reminded me of that. And Camille…. There were always more conditions to her love than I could keep track of. I left the club determined that I wouldn’t let Camille take anything more from me. It just so happened that because I went home early, I caught Camille _in flagrante_. I moved out that night and hadn’t dated anyone seriously until your brother.”

“I don’t remember everything about that night, but I do remember you walking me to my front door to make sure I got home safe. Your parties were infamous, and yet I remember you saying to me that I didn’t need to bury my emotions under shiny distractions. I went to a coffee shop instead of a club the next weekend where, it just so happened, Simon’s band was playing.”

Magnus had to smile at that. “You took my advice years before I did.”

Izzy shrugged. “And yet here we both are.”

_Indeed._

Magnus scanned the skyline, watching the sun lower toward towers of steel and glass. Darkness would fall soon. In this room, though, there was warmth and camaraderie. Perhaps “here” wasn’t so awful of a place to be. Neither of them were alone, and not solely because of their respective romantic relationships either.

“Simon and Alec….” Magnus started, the thought forming as he spoke. “Both of them protect our flames, but I’m not sure that either of them knows what to do when our fires begin to diminish.”

“Of course not. It’s not fair to expect them to know everything or be able to solve it.”

“That’s beside the point,” Magnus insisted. “You and I, we know how to find the last tiniest ember within ourselves and coax it back to life. We’ve always fought individually to do that, but maybe we can learn to rely on each other, just as we did instinctively that first night.”

Izzy squeezed his hand again. “I’d like that, Magnus.”

She let go of his hand and refocused on the view outside her office. Magnus leaned back in his chair. “Do you want to tell me what it is that’s dominating your thoughts?”

“I wish I could. I just…don’t know. I’ve accomplished more than someone my age should’ve been able to, but I feel like I’m missing out on an opportunity to do more… I just don’t know what it is.”

“I have similar thoughts.”

Izzy locked eyes with him. “So, what do we do?”

“Go home tonight, tuck in, and let someone else protect our embers.”

Izzy slipped her fingers through her hair and sat up straighter. Within one breath, she seemed surer of herself. Not okay, but better. And Magnus found he did too.

“You know,” Izzy said as she lifted another cookie from the bag, “neither Simon nor Alec knows how we really met.”

“The story that I swept you onto the dance floor for a tango because I adored those McQueen shoes only serves to heighten our mysteriously alluring reputations.”

“And it’s much more in character, _mijo_ ,” Izzy said with a laugh.

“Indeed, it is.” Magnus stood then leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the game.”

Magnus made his way to the subway with the Angels’ gift bag tucked into his body again, taking the time to think—to redefine, to strategize. To contemplate.

As the train lurched its way to Brooklyn, he set aside all thoughts of Siti and ruminated on Izzy’s question— _So, what do we do?_

He hadn’t planned on becoming a talent agent, but it was a career that he’d built from the ground up through sheer force of will and hours of hard work. Negotiating came easy to him—an in-born skill Imogen had first identified, then encouraged him to hone his talent. He’d learned how to use charm and confidence to his advantage, pushing for protections none of his clients had ever secured before…. Because most of the clients he’d chosen to take on were in some kind of disenfranchised group.

Why hadn’t he seen this before?

His upbringing, immigration status, ethnicity, and his bisexuality had molded his professional approach from the very beginning. He’d ensured Jocelyn had the flexibility she needed as a single mom, that Alec’s contracts didn’t contain lifestyle clauses, and that not only did Tessa not have to worry about working as a Brit on US soil, but that she could keep Will and Jem with her too. And although Jace was straight, with his current relationship triad, he’d need unique protections as well.

They all needed an advocate, and Magnus had the skills, connections, and empathy to ensure their individual needs were met when another agent wouldn’t have been able, or willing, to see their needs at all.

Magnus clutched at the Angels’ bag as the train rumbled to a stop and that thought began to take shape. It was merely a spark of an idea, but one that held the potential to ignite all-consuming action. An ember that deserved attention and oxygen to grow into a sustainable fire….

And that would take time.

He pushed those thoughts away for later as he entered the loft quietly, unsure if Alec would be sleeping off the stress of the day, only to find him lying on the floor by the windows.

Magnus froze.

There was a symmetrical line down Alec’s face whenever he was worried—furrowed brow, the divot on the tip of his nose, and the cleft above his lips all in near perfect alignment. Alec’s facial expression probably shouldn’t have been the first thing Magnus noticed—since Alec had his shirt hiked up around his chest with the pietersite stone resting on his similarly symmetrical abs—and yet it was.

Maybe because it was nearly the same expression he’d seen on Izzy’s face for the last hour.

Magnus swallowed roughly. “What’s wrong?”

 

****

 

Alec chuckled nervously at the concern etched into Magnus’ features. He lifted the stone off his belly and tugged down his shirt, hoping he didn’t look as self-conscious as he felt. “Nothing. I’m integrating and assimilating through my solar plexus chakra. Or that’s what Google tells me. I just don’t know if it’s working.”

Magnus tipped his head, seemingly considering that. “May I join you?”

Of course Magnus would take this in stride. He’d been the one to buy the pietersite in the first place. Alec patted the floor next to him. “Assimilate away.”

Magnus stepped out of his shoes, slung his suit coat onto the barstool, and lay on the floor next to Alec, shoulder to shoulder. “So how does this work?”

“Take off your tie and unbutton your shirt all the way….”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow.

Alec’s shoulders pressed against the floor as he shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. These are ancient traditions.”

“I am the epitome of tradition.”

“And you are ancient.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Well, someone has assimilated sarcasm into his repertoire today.”

Alec couldn’t contain his smile. “It was a good day.”

“It really was.”

No matter how successful the day had been, though, Alec hadn’t been able to completely eliminate his worries about Magnus. Now, just as it had been this morning, his goal was to ensure Magnus was okay. And maybe coax a smile out of him.

Alec propped himself up on his elbow as he watched Magnus loosen his tie. “It’s getting even better now.”

The corner of Magnus’ lips curved slightly as he unknotted his tie, leaving it to drape off the sides of his chest, and began to unbutton his dress shirt. “So tell me, my Buddha in Bauer, what got you thinking about this?”

“Meliorn, actually. He was doing a crystal cleanse of his locker and I asked him about it. Jace wouldn’t let him get anywhere close to his gear, but I was too curious.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “And did he have any insight about this particular stone?”

“He had no clue. Said pietersite was next level. Therefore, Google.”

“Only you would think that was the next logical step,” Magnus chuckled fondly.

Alec grinned down at him. Hearing Magnus laugh unknotted his stomach even further.

Magnus undid the last of his buttons and outstretched his hand so Alec could drop the stone onto his palm.

“You lay it on your stomach here”—Alec circled his finger at a spot above Magnus’ bellybutton and below his pecs—”then close your eyes.”

As ridiculous as Alec had felt when he’d first laid down on the floor to try this himself, Magnus didn’t hesitate to close his eyes and even out his breathing.

The sites he’d read spoke of the stone “jolting” a person into awareness. Almost as if the swirling eddies would capture your inner chaos and snap you into alignment. He’d expected a physical sensation of some kind, any kind, and he searched Magnus’ features for a sign that he was experiencing something different than Alec’s chakra fail.

“Anything?”

A smirk twitched at Magnus’ lips.

“What? Did you feel something?”

Magnus peeked at Alec. “Maybe this would work better if we were both fully naked and I laid on top of you with the stone between the two of us.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “You just want to lay naked on top of me.”

“It could help with the _integrating_ part of this process.”

Alec studied Magnus carefully. Magnus held Alec’s gaze, yet his fingers were clasped onto the gold chains around his neck, fingers working at the metal.

Despite Magnus’ words, that wasn’t an invitation or a come on—not really. Months ago, Alec would’ve heard a line like that and assumed Magnus was flirting, but now he understood that it was just Magnus’ way of verbally maneuvering himself through his own discomfort.

It wasn’t sex Magnus was looking for, it was reassurance. Alec leaned over and kissed Magnus softly, slowly. He lifted the pietersite off Magnus’ stomach, palmed it, and laid down next to him again, entwining their fingers together around the stone.

Magnus slid closer to press his body against Alec’s—from shoulders, to hips, to feet—then sighed contentedly. One exhalation of true peace that was even better than a smile, and more revealing than sex.

The stone warmed between their palms and Alec lazily spun one of Magnus’ rings with his thumb as they laid together on the floor in silence, staring up at the ceiling. Alec’s chest filled with the breath to ask every question racing through his head, but he followed Magnus’ lead instead and exhaled away each worry, easing more with each measured breath. As the sunlight faded from gold to red, the room began to darken around them.

“You didn’t see him, did you?”

Alec didn’t have to ask who, even though Raj hadn’t flitted across his thoughts in hours. “No. Lydia planned my schedule perfectly.”

“Good.”

“But he’s not the one who monopolized my thoughts today.”

Magnus didn’t respond. Alec pressed forward, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t look Magnus in the eye right now—he didn’t want to see Magnus’ defenses going up. Instead, he focused on the warmth of Magnus’ hand in his and the solidness of the stone between their palms. “I was thinking about it on the way here and it wasn’t just last night, was it? I started thinking back, and the day I signed my new contract, you were proud of me, I know that, but there was something else there. And since then, you and I…. We haven’t really talked. Not like we probably needed to.”

Magnus’ silence stretched on, then, “We haven’t.”

Only then did Alec dare to look at Magnus. “So talk to me. Please.”

“You appearing in my life….” Magnus shook his head then turned to look Alec in the eye. “You changed everything about how I see my future.”

Alec scanned Magnus’ face, attempting to piece together how Magnus felt about what he’d just said. He furrowed his brow, unsure.

“Oh, Alexander,” Magnus said as he squeezed Alec’s hand. “Not like that. In a _positive_ way. I don’t know if you were the catalyst or the vital ingredient, maybe both, but a lot has changed since we met. I feel like another change is coming, but I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be yet.”

“No idea?”

“I have fleeting thoughts.”

“Ones you want to share?”

“Not quite yet.”

Alec nodded, consciously deciding to leave the subject until Magnus was ready to talk. “Okay.”

“But last night specifically….” Magnus sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling again. “Siti texted me to let me know that my biological father is dying. She wouldn’t have reached out to me at all, but it turns out that I was his first child. Or at least, the first child that can be legally tied to him. And if I decide to claim the right as the eldest male child, I can petition for his home to be turned over to Siti. She and her daughter want to start another orphanage.”

_Fuck_. It was surprising Magnus had slept at all last night. “But that means you would have to officially acknowledge he’s your father.”

Magnus nodded slowly. “Yes. And as Magnus Bane, as well as my birth name.”

There was nothing Alec could say to that. Nothing he could do to make this better or right. So he brushed his thumb over the back of Magnus’ hand, simply letting Magnus know he wasn’t going anywhere.

“And as much as I’ve been thinking about the past….” Magnus’ brows drew down and his jaw clenched. “Do you know what realization hurts the most? That I remember my stepfather’s voice more clearly than I remember my mom’s.”

Alec’s heart ached. “A man who probably never said one kind word to you.”

Magnus shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“I know it’s not the same, but we can call Siti if you want. Hear her voice. It would be seven am there and she’d probably be in the kitchen.”

“I adore that you know that fact,” Magnus said softly. “Not today, but I’d like her to meet you soon. I just need some time to think before I talk to her again.”

“What do you want to do?”

Magnus huffed and thumped his head against the floor. “Not think about it at all.”

“Magnus—”

“I don’t want to think about it right now, Alexander,” Magnus snapped.

Alec didn’t even flinch. None of Magnus’ anger was directed at him.

“I’m sorry.” Magnus tightened his hold on Alec’s hand and the stone. “I don’t want to think about it, and yet I can’t _stop_ thinking about it. More children deserve a chance like the one Siti gave to me.”

“You already know what you’re going to do.”

“I do.”

“But?”

“But….” Magnus finally met his eyes. “I’m frightened it will change how I look at myself.”

“Then I’ll just have to remind you more often how beautiful you are,” Alec said as he placed a kiss on Magnus’ forehead.

Magnus closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Now tell me, what is it that you haven’t talked about?”

He wasn’t going to begin comparing worries or deflect Magnus’ question. He owed the same level of honesty Magnus had just given him. “I’m scared about what seeing Raj is going to do to my game tomorrow. Maybe it would’ve been better to get that over with today. I mean, I’ve played against him before, but everything is different now.”

“Do you remember after the first game of the playoffs, when I apologized for our meeting with Sebastian that morning and you told me there would’ve been no good time for that? It’s the same here.”

Alec breathed deeply and accepted that reality. “I’m going to be thrown, aren’t I?”

“Your only other option is to completely shut down.”

Alec shook his head. “I can’t do that. It’s always made things worse. I _won’t_ do it.”

“Then we deal with it, together.”

Alec met Magnus’ eyes. “Both of our things, okay? All of it.”

“Okay.” Magnus leaned forward and kissed Alec softly.

“Thank you for telling me,” Alec said.

“It’s not easy.”

“I know,” Alec acknowledged. Opening up like this had never been easy for him either, but he wanted to be better for Magnus. “And I know I’m not the best when it comes to feelings and all of…that, so if I’m not the right person for you to be talking to—”

“No,” Magnus cut in. “I want to, Alexander. I trust you.”

“I trust you too.”

“Perhaps you’re on to something, though,” Magnus said as he shook his head. “Maybe I should reach out to Jocelyn as well.”

“Yeah?”

“You probably don’t know this, but before her art career took off she went back to school for a degree in counseling, focusing on the use of art as treatment. I don’t know what she’ll say, but maybe she could help me make sense of, well, everything.”

“Then do that.”

“I will.” Magnus nodded, then stood and drew Alec to his feet too. “Are you hungry? I can make dinner.”

“No need to. I stopped by that Japanese place you love on the way here.”

“Thank you.”

He squeezed Magnus’ hand then let go, leaving the stone in Magnus’ palm. “You’re welcome.”

Alec ran his fingers through his hair and shook off the tension from laying on the floor for so long. He started toward the kitchen and Magnus gathered up his suit coat, heading for the bedroom.

“By the way, call Isabelle when you get a chance,” Magnus called out.

Alec turned to face Magnus. “Is everything okay?”

“No, but yes. I think you could use hearing her voice just as much as she could yours.”

That was always the truth. Alec nodded. “Okay.”

“After that, let’s eat dinner in bed, watch Netflix, and not move from that spot until the alarm goes off tomorrow. A lazy Sunday…. Just starting off a bit late.”

“Perfect.”

Alec set to getting their dinner ready, balancing the to-go boxes with one of his protein shakes as he closed the refrigerator door. Before he had everything plated, Magnus emerged from the bedroom in a pair of Alec’s sweats and a t-shirt with _I’ve Been Touched by an Angel_ emblazoned across the front in an elegant script.

Alec nearly choked on his protein shake. “Just how many of those t-shirts do you have now?”

“Not nearly enough. Although I do enjoy lounging in the hoodies you leave here too.” Magnus plucked at one of said hoodies, hanging from the back of a barstool. He tipped his head toward the counter. “Just how many of those protein shakes do you drink before a game? The refrigerator is full of them now.”

“Way too many. They’re gross, but helpful. You can have one if you want, but I don’t recommend them.”

“No thank you. I prefer to get my protein in more…natural ways.”

Alec glanced at Magnus’ tee and smiled. It was good to know that even with the heaviness Magnus was carrying, he still felt like he could be his flirtatious self with Alec. Maybe Magnus was starting to understand, whether he consciously realized it or not, that Alec accepted every aspect of him.

Alec chuckled. “Believe me, I prefer that way too.”

Magnus smiled easily and picked up the Angels’ gift bag. “Shall I open this?”

“Go ahead.”

Magnus flung out the gold tissue paper peeking from the top and lifted out Alec’s sweatshirt, the headphones Alec had given him, and the book Alec had picked up for him in Dallas—everything Magnus had given back to him after their break up.

Magnus bundled the items in his arms and leaned in for a kiss. “Thank you.”

Alec barely had time to brush his lips across Magnus’ before Magnus was on the move again, flitting around the apartment to place each item in, what Alec had to assume, their rightful spot.

Alec watched him quietly, then went back to getting their dinner warmed up when fur tickled at his ankle and a tail swished around his leg.

He peered down at the Chairman. “Are you hungry too?”

Chairman mewled plaintively, so Alec momentarily deserted their dinner to ensure Chairman was well-fed and loved-on a bit too. After filling Chairman’s bowl, he rubbed at the tiny cat’s head and down his back, then stood to grab a towel and swipe any stray hairs from his hands. Only then did he realize Magnus had been watching him, and Alec had never seen Magnus look more unsure yet…determined?

“What is it?” he asked.

“This whole integrating and assimilating thing, Alexander….” Magnus sat down slowly across from Alec, his brow furrowed. He twisted the pietersite stone in his fingers, seemingly entranced by the glint of light over the red, gold, and blue eddies. His shoulders lifted with a deep inhale as he locked eyes with Alec. “Move in with me. Here. Please?”

Alec’s stomach fluttered and he pursed his lips, holding back a smile. He tossed the kitchen towel aside and walked around the island to stand next to Magnus. “Here’s the thing….” He knocked a closed fist against the counter, then shrugged. “I already have been. One toothbrush, hoodie, and protein shake at a time.”

Magnus clicked the stone against the counter and chuckled softly. “Then let’s make it official. Move in everything of yours when the finals are over.”

He didn’t care if he left everything abandoned in his apartment, all he needed was Magnus. So Alec leaned forward and kissed him, lingering on the softness of Magnus’ lips when he answered.

“There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

 

****

 

Magnus clicked out of his texts, again, and tried to focus on the book he’d purchased on the spur of the moment at three am, almost two hours ago now. But after another few page clicks of scanning the words and absorbing none of the concepts, he gave in and sent the message to Siti that he’d been thinking about since before he’d initially fallen asleep.

_I’ll look into what it would take for me to make that happen_

It wasn’t a promise to Siti that everything would work out as she hoped, but a promise that he would try. He clicked his screen dark as he sunk into his pillows, relieved. He’d think about the potential fallout—both professionally and emotionally—later.

Next to him, Alec snuffled quietly in his sleep—hair askew, lips slightly parted and legs kicked out to take up almost the entire width of the bed. But all Magnus had to do was turn on his side and slip his leg over the top of Alec’s outstretched one to spread out comfortably. It had been an unnecessarily large bed when it was just him sleeping in it, and now it fit the two of them perfectly. As if his subconscious had always known that someday Alec would be here too.

Alec reached out blindly in his sleep, resting his hand on Magnus’ thigh and Magnus couldn’t resist the urge to brush a lock of Alec’s hair off his forehead.

He’d run over their conversation last night a thousand times at least by now, and each remembrance of Alec’s care and unfailing support began to stitch together the wounds he’d reopened over the last twenty-four hours.

Maybe he should’ve been worried that _Alec_ would’ve looked at him differently when he decided to claim his birthright, but he hadn’t. Not for one second. And that faith that he’d unintentionally placed in Alec’s hands had been proved worthy yet again.

He wouldn’t be able to completely forget everything today, but he welcomed having Alec to focus on. He’d already sent off a message last night to Jocelyn seeking outside support. So for today, his past could remain in the past, and his future…? He was lying next to Magnus in bed right now.

Magnus’ cell screen lit up and he glanced at it, wondering if Siti had replied already, but it was Cat’s name that appeared at the top of his notifications. He entered his passcode and opened the thread he and his best friends shared.

_Is anyone awake?_

_What is sleep?_ Magnus replied.

_Grudgingly so,_ Ragnor chimed in. _These hours are heathenistic. I negotiated a later start time in my university contract, can’t they?_

_This is sleeping in for me,_ Cat pointed out.

_We all know you’re a much better person than the rest of us, but thank you for the reminder_

_Luke’s in the shower_ , Cat texted, ignoring Ragnor as usual. _There’s this look in his eyes I haven’t seen before_

_Ah yes. “The Void”. You will learn, my sweet summer child. You will learn_

Magnus pondered that. Ragnor was a cynic, but that didn’t diminish his thesis. When Alec was focused on his game, on his internal preparations, he abandoned the present completely. As if he’d willingly dropped himself into an abyss—his body going through the motions of living, and his mind’s eye focused on a world no one else could see.

Magnus couldn’t anticipate how deep—and consuming—that void would be for Alec today, but he had no doubt it was vital to Alec’s success.

_I think they need that space_ , Magnus asserted. _No matter how unnerving it is for us_

_They do_ , Ragnor replied in a rare moment of sincerity. _You have to learn how to exist on the fringes of it_

_And protect it at the same time_ , Magnus added.

Magnus laid back and waited as Cat composed a reply, then, _How exactly did three of us, three of the least sports inclined people in the world, end up on the sidelines (rinklines? whatever) for one of the world’s biggest sporting events?_

Before Magnus could begin to contemplate that, Cat sent through another text, _Let alone for three men who actively fought a support network?_

_Fate_ , Magnus typed without a second thought, then added, _No. DESTINY_

_Or bad luck. The world is an inherently unfair place_

_Go get some coffee, Ragnor_ , Magnus retorted.

The middle finger emoji appeared so quickly that Magnus had no doubt that Ragnor had it saved in his favorites.

_How’s Alec doing?_ Cat asked.

_He’s still asleep_

In fact, Magnus couldn’t understand how Alec had slept at all last night, let alone that he continued to sleep despite the sun creeping through his window. No. _Their_ window.

Because Alec had agreed to make this loft their home.

Magnus smiled even as another message popped through from Ragnor— _Aren’t you fortunate? Raphael’s been up and banging around his kitchen for the last hour_

_You do realize I’m part of this thread?_

That message was from Raphael.

_I am well aware, Santiago_

Magnus’ shoulders shook with silent laughter and he peeked at Alec to ensure he hadn’t woken him quite yet. He ignored the resulting flurry of texts flying between two of his best friends. Knowing there were mere minutes left before the alarm began chirping, Magnus switched it off then burrowed into Alec’s chest, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Good morning,” Alec mumbled. He rested his arm on Magnus’ back and scratched his fingers through Magnus’ hair.

Magnus savored this one last moment of peace and offered Alec a _good morning_ in the form of a kiss to his chest.

It took only seconds for Alec to tense beneath him. “Shit. It’s Monday. The first day of the finals.”

“It is,” Magnus acknowledged. Alec’s heartbeat sped under Magnus’ lips, but he wasn’t going to give Alec time to accumulate any worries today. “It’s time for superstition.”

Before Alec had time to ask which one, Magnus draped himself completely over Alec and nipped at Alec’s earlobe. “Shower. Now.”

Alec groaned something that sounded a lot like _fuck yes_ and grabbed Magnus by the ass, lifting him off the bed. Magnus struggled to stay on his feet as they stumbled towards the bathroom because Alec had his hands running down his sides, over his ass and around his hips, followed by his fingers dipping between Magnus’ thighs.

“Teeth first, Alexander,” Magnus chided him.

“I got out of bed under the promise of a shower, not brushing my teeth,” Alec teasingly pouted. “I know this is my superstition, but fuck, Magnus, I want you in my mouth, not a toothbrush.”

“And I want to kiss you properly. Then….” Magnus felt a smirk pulling at his lips as he handed over Alec’s toothbrush. “Then I promise to make your mouth dirty again.”

Alec brushed his teeth in record time and his hands slipped around Magnus’ hips less than a second later, waiting impatiently for Magnus to finish. When Magnus merely smirked around his toothbrush, Alec took the situation into his own hands.

Literally.

Alec stroked Magnus’ cock, slid his other hand over Magnus’ ribs and kissed at Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus twisted as well as he could in Alec’s grip and finished brushing faster than he would have any other morning. Despite his teasing, he couldn’t wait any longer to have those full lips against his and Alec’s tongue sliding into his mouth.

Magnus slid his arm over Alec’s back and ran his fingers through the bristly hair at Alec’s nape, urging him forward. He lost himself in the sensation of Alec’s lips opening for him and the heat building inside him as Alec tongue-fucked his mouth and jacked his cock. He sank his fingers into the muscles of Alec’s ass and thrusted them together, riding the adrenaline high building in his veins.

No one had ever left him this desperate within seconds, this switched on and fully present like Alec could. Their first time together had been Magnus taking control and learning what drove Alec to the brink, and each time they’d been together since then Magnus had gently pushed at those initial boundaries, uncovering just how much Alec got off on watching Magnus fall apart.

Magnus shivered as Alec’s head dipped lower, tongue flicking over his nipple, then dragging over his abs as Alec dropped to his knees. The warmth of Alec’s mouth enveloped him completely and Alec’s fingers dug into his ass. Magnus gripped the countertop to keep his knees from buckling. A moan built low in his throat as Alec’s beard scratched against his stomach and thighs as Alec took his balls into his mouth before moving back to his cock. Every muscle in his body tensed then released into total surrender when Alec lifted those hazel eyes to Magnus’, cock stretching his lips wide.

“I don’t want to come like this,” he gasped out, even as he buried his fingers into Alec’s hair and drove deeper into Alec’s mouth. “In the shower, now.”

Alec popped off and stood, drawing Magnus close and urging them toward the shower.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” Alec groaned, then captured Magnus’ lips again.

Magnus blindly reached out for the tap when they were close enough, flipping the water on and returning to Alec immediately as they waited for the water to warm. Humid air circled around them, fogging the mirror. Magnus was so focused on the push and pull of Alec’s mouth against his that Alec had to practically drag him under the warm water.

Alec let go of Magnus and set his hands on the tile, dipping his head under the water, and sending it splattering with a shake of his head that was worthy of a slo-mo movie sequence. Magnus smiled.

Now that Alec didn’t have his hands all over Magnus, it was easier to take a breath, slow this down and focus on giving Alec what he needed. He fitted himself against Alec’s back and circled his hand around Alec’s waist, teasing his fingers through Alec’s chest hair, then down, following that trail to Alec’s hard cock.

He licked the water droplets off Alec’s shoulders and fitted them tightly together. “How many times have you fantasized about this, Alexander?”

 Alec rocked his hips, pressing his ass into Magnus’ dick. “More times than I can count.”

“I want to mark you,” Magnus said with his lips at Alec’s neck, holding back. “Show everyone you’re taken.”

“Do it,” Alec whispered as he craned his neck back. “I don’t care who sees.”

Magnus bit down and Alec arched into him, gasping for breath. A red flush raised on Alec’s pale skin, so Magnus nipped again, working his way across Alec’s shoulders, soothing each spot with his lips and tongue until Alec was shaking.

He knew _exactly_ how territorial he was acting—possessive even—and he didn’t care. Alec didn’t love Raj anymore, but that didn’t mean that Raj had let Alec go. He wanted Raj’s first sight of Alec to be of a man completely in control. For Raj to read total and utter satiation in Alec’s smile.

And if he left a few visible marks in the process, who could blame him?

Magnus took his time exploring Alec’s body, running his fingers over soft skin, coarse hair, and ridges of hard muscle. Touching everywhere except where Alec wanted to be touched the most. Water sluiced down around them, easing the slide of skin against skin.

Magnus settled his chin on Alec’s shoulder. He slid his hand around Alec’s hip, down between the v of Alec’s legs, and Alec inhaled sharply. Alec grew even more rigid in his hand, hips moving lazily as Magnus stroked him.

Alec’s head fell back, lips parting with a moan.

“Is this what you need, Alexander?”

A shiver passed through Alec as he leaned against Magnus. “Yes.”

Magnus pulled Alec’s ass cheeks apart, sliding his dick into the crease, letting Alec feel the heat of his cock against his hole. He pinched Alec’s nipple and Alec moaned, thrusting into Magnus’ hand.

“I want you inside me, Magnus.”

Magnus nipped at Alec’s shoulder. “Not today. But soon.”

“Fuck, Magnus. Do you want me to beg?”

Alec didn’t have to. There was nothing Magnus wanted more right now than to lose himself in the heat of Alec’s body. But no matter how much they’d prepared for Alec’s first time, he would be sore. Today was not the day, even as much as he craved, wanted, _needed_ it to be. Magnus bit down on his lip and circled his hand over the top of Alec’s cock.

“Alexander, you are making this—and _me_ —extraordinarily hard. Trust me when I say _not today_.”

“Give me your fingers, then. I need you…everywhere. Just everywhere.”

“Where exactly, Alexander?” Magnus urged him as he nipped at Alec’s skin.

“You know where. Just—” Alec sucked in a desperate breath as Magnus tightened his hold on Alec’s cock. “ _Fuck_.”

“I remember you telling me once that you really only said crude things on the ice, but I’ve heard you in bed. I know you can do better. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Alec’s muscles rippled as he braced himself against the tile and his chest expanded on a deep breath. “Fuck my ass with your fingers, Magnus. Please.”

Magnus reached for the silicone lube he’d left in here after a post-practice soak session had turned into mutual handjobs. At the snick of the top opening, Alec rested his head on his forearm and spread his legs until his feet bumped up against the edge of the tub.

Magnus teased his slicked fingers over Alec’s hole, sliding a fingertip over the rim as he took Alec’s cock in his other hand. When Alec’s hips began rocking, chasing both sensations, Magnus slipped one finger inside him, and Alec gasped.

“More.”

Magnus rested his forehead on the planes of Alec’s shoulder and inhaled raggedly. Despite the barely-there sensation of his own cock sliding across Alec’s ass, his desire spiked. He worked Alec open with one hand and pumped his dick with deliberate slowness.

“Right there,” Alec breathed out.

Alec’s legs began to shake, and his breath quickened. The water beat down over them as Magnus buried his fingers in over and over again.

“I’m so close, Magnus. Fuck. I just want this to be your cock inside me.”

With that, Alec’s cock surged in his hand and his ass tightened on Magnus’ fingers. Magnus carried Alec through the crest and before he recognized what was happening, Alec had twisted around and slid to his knees to wrap his lips around Magnus’ cock, sucking him deep. Magnus didn’t want to hold out. He slid his hands through Alec’s water-slicked hair and spilled into Alec’s mouth.

When his brain finally came online again, he brushed his fingers over Alec’s beard and peered down at Alec. “There’s lube in your hair.”

“I don’t even care.” Alec slumped against the side of the tub as his shoulders shook with laughter. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Magnus had to slump against the tile to ensure his own legs didn’t buckle. “That could be a problem today.”

“Or the best start to the day ever. I don’t think I have an ounce of tension left in me.”

“Excellent.” Magnus offered him a hand. “Now, let’s actually get cleaned up.”

Alec got to his feet unsteadily and grabbed Magnus’ hips, kissing him soundly on the mouth. Alec’s urgency was gone, but his intensity wasn’t. He kissed Magnus as if they were sharing the last oxygen molecules in the atmosphere. Then he started up the second showerhead and lavished Magnus’ body with soaped up caresses and all Magnus could do was sink into the care and attention.

By the time he was clean, he didn’t have an ounce of tension left in him either.

“I’ll leave you to it now,” Magnus said as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a fresh towel. He dried himself off as Alec finished up. “Did you tell Isabelle about moving in here when you talked to her last night?”

“Not yet. I knew as soon as I did that I’d be bombarded with messages. They’re all going to flip out, not just Iz.”

“For good reason.”

“Yeah,” Alec drew out as the curtain opened. “You do it.”

Magnus smirked and draped a towel over Alec’s shoulders. “I’ll find some way to shock them all.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“And now….” Magnus swept the towel over Alec’s beard and down his neck. “Are you ready for a trim, Mr. Lightwood?”

“Only if your best barber is available.”

Magnus patted the counter. “Have a seat.”

Alec swiped himself dry then wrapped the towel around his waist as he sat down. Before Magnus could even pick up the scissors, Alec had his hands on Magnus’ hips, drawing him in close.

“I believe I’m the one who should be hands-on, not you,” Magnus chided as he extracted his scissors from their case.

A grin tipped the edges of Alec’s lips as he traced his fingers over Magnus’ stomach. “You know, my range of motion has really improved with this new set of stretching exercises I’ve been doing….”

Magnus hummed and clipped away the first strands of Alec’s overgrown beard. “Has it?”

“Yeah. I think maybe I could fuck you and blow you at the same time.”

Magnus’ jaw dropped and the gold scissors clanked to the ground.

Alec’s eyes widened and he glanced at the floor. “Next time I’ll remember to say that when you’re not holding a ridiculously sharp object.”

_Please do_ , he tried to croak out, but what fell out of his lips instead was, “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Alec laughed heartily and swept Magnus nearly off his feet and in for a kiss. “This is going to be a good day too. I can already feel it.”

 

****

 

Alec stood in front of the mirror but wasn’t seeing any of his reflection—he was too caught up in the gold-green of Magnus’ eyes as he reclined on the bed behind Alec, watching Alec get dressed. His cell phone laid next to him on the duvet and every now and then, Magnus would peer down at it and type out a reply, but his gaze never wandered away for long.

Alec hadn’t looked away at all. He couldn’t.

Since their shower, Magnus had done his makeup and hair and pulled on a pair of pants, but his shirt still hung from a hanger on the back of the bedroom door. All that freshly-showered skin and tantalizing muscles on full display were enough to leave Alec struggling for breath, but Magnus had decided to torture Alec even more.

A new gold chain circled Magnus’ waist, practically begging Alec to tear it off with his teeth. But they’d passed that possibility when Max had shown up at their door thirty minutes ago.

Alec’s fingers fumbled on the silk and he slipped the knot out of his tie for at least the fifth time.

In the mirror, Magnus smirked. “Don’t tell me you have this much trouble with your tie every time you get dressed for a game.”

“You’re a bit…distracting.”

“Am I?”

Alec’s heartbeat sped as Magnus rose to his feet and approached.

Magnus stood behind Alec and circled his arms around Alec’s shoulders, taking hold of the tie. His lips grazed against the shell of Alec’s ear. “Allow me.”

It didn’t matter that he’d just gotten off. Alec’s body was now finely tuned to the sensation of Magnus’ body pressed against his. And suddenly he was very, very much ready to go again. Alec inhaled a shaky breath. “Max is outside that door.”

“And? I’m just fixing your tie.”

“You and that gold chain are _killing me_.”

Magnus chuckled, kissed Alec’s cheek, then stepped back. “Now you look flawless.”

Alec shook his head fondly at Magnus’ flirtation and didn’t bother to check his reflection in the mirror this time. He had no doubt Magnus had knotted his tie better than he ever could.

“I don’t know about flawless,” Alec said as he shrugged on his jacket and faced Magnus. “But Jace and I will be the only ones sporting a suit this morning.”

Magnus furrowed his brow and plucked at Alec’s shoulders, then lapels, straightening out the jacket. “Isn’t it league protocol to wear a suit when arriving before the game?”

“Yeah, but everyone else leaves the arena after morning skate. You’ve watched enough games now, haven’t you noticed that when the press does pre-game coverage that Jace and I are never in the shots of the arriving players?”

“Ah yes,” Magnus said as he smoothed Alec’s shirt down. “I do love that particular segment. There is something…enticing about a hockey player in a suit.”

Alec tipped his chin down. “Should I be jealous?”

“I don’t plan on asking any other players to move in with me.”

“Good.”

Magnus smiled at him and turned away, swiping his phone off the bed and clicking off another reply. This time, though, his brow was furrowed.

“You’ve spent a lot of time on your cell this morning,” Alec tested as he slipped on his bracelet. “Work?”

“Not really, no.”

“Siti?”

Magnus plucked his shirt off the hanger and shook his head. “I let Siti know that I’d look into the process, but in the meantime, I’ve been talking to Jocelyn. She can’t take me on as an official client because we’re friends, but she invited me to come in for an introductory session so I can see if art therapy would be a good option for me. I’m taking the day off tomorrow and going while you’re at practice.”

“That sounds like a great way to spend the day.”

“And….” Magnus slipped Alec’s cell off the dresser and handed it to him. “I also made an adjustment to the Puck Me group.”

Alec quirked an eyebrow and trailed behind him into the living room, tapping open the app and scrolling back through the thread as he walked.

_Jace Wayland and Lydia Branwell joined the group_

agent0069: As we embark upon this journey into the Finals, everyone please welcome our newest members—Alec’s esteemed agent Lydia Branwell and the ever-confident left winger of the Angels Jace Wayland

frayedknot: Oh boy. Jace’s nickname in this group should be “herecomestrouble”

Jace Wayland: What?! I’m…. (Wait for it) ….an angel

frayedknot: *groans* Don’t, Jace. Just…don’t

Lydia Branwell: Speaking of nicknames, I’m scrolling through old messages now. How the hell do Jace and I tell who anyone is in here?

frayedknot: Guess :)

Lydia Branwell: Hey, Clary :*

Lydia Branwell: _agent0069_ is definitely Magnus. Too perfect

Jace Wayland: And _moustacheyouaquestion_ is definitely Alec. He’s way too proud of his facial hair

agent0069: No beard shaming. It’s a rule of the group

hanyolo: No it’s not

agent0069: Now it is

hanyolo: Says the man who probably enjoys that beard up close and personal multiple times a day

lightwoodsaves: THERE ARE SIBLINGS IN THIS THREAD

badumtess: And friends who don’t want to have to look Magnus in the eye in a professional situation whilst thinking about why it appears his makeup is covering beard burn

agent0069: Give me more credit. I don’t attempt to hide those marks at all

lightwoodsaves: Unfortunately, I can confirm that’s true

Jace Wayland: I’m regretting every decision I made in life that led to me joining this group

Lydia Branwell: Same. But since we’re here now…. _hanyolo_ is Simon. I think you’ve been wearing a Star Wars t-shirt every time I’ve seen you

hanyolo: I need a bigger closet

lightwoodsaves: No you don’t

hanyolo: Hey!

thislightwoodscores: He really doesn’t

frayedknot: When did you start hanging up your shirts, Simon?

hanyolo: I don’t think you have any room to talk about where clothes should or shouldn’t go, Fray. My retinas are still healing

frayedknot: Fair point. ANYWAY, did you figure out anyone, Jace?

Jace Wayland: _lightwoodsaves_ and _thislightwoodscores_ …. I can’t tell which is Izzy and which is Max

 

_lightwoodsaves changed Jace Wayland’s name to lordofthewings_

 

lordofthewings: Ok. So _lightwoodsaves_ is Max

Lydia Branwell: And by process of elimination, _badumtess_ is obviously Tessa

badumtess: Brilliant deduction :) Magnus said you’d help me keep this group corralled

Lydia Branwell: I’ll try!

 

_Lydia Branwell changed her name to blondeambition_

 

agent0069: Excellent choice, Lydia.

agent0069: Now. Everyone needs to stop messaging. Alec hasn’t looked at his cell yet this morning and he needs to stay in his headspace

lightwoodsaves: “Headspace.” Right. I know what that means since they’ve been sequestered in Magnus’ bedroom for the last twenty minutes

agent0069: A) maybe now you’ll learn not to show up here unannounced, and B) OUR bedroom

thislightwoodscores: did you just….?

thislightwoodscores: DOES THIS MEAN WHAT I THINK IT MEANS, MAGNUS????

frayedknot: …you better be talking about you and Alec living together and not you and Max

lightwoodsaves: Fun fact—Magnus and I can only spend short amounts of time in close proximity or we risk overloading the cosmic sarcasm circuits and imploding the entire universe

agent0069: Truth

agent0069: And yes, all of Alec’s mail can now be forwarded to Brooklyn

frayedknot: WOO HOO!

blondeambition: Best news of the day so far!

thislightwoodscores: I’m not crying (I’m definitely crying)

badumtess: Jem says to pass on his congratulations, Will says good luck (can you hear his sarcasm mixed with love from all the way across town?), and I say IT’S ABOUT TIME

lordofthewings: You better not actually be moving to Brooklyn until after the Finals, Alec

lordofthewings: And congrats, bro

 

Alec laughed softly and looked up at Magnus. “Thanks for adding them.”

“Lydia will bring a modicum of sense to the group, and Jace….” Magnus shrugged. “Well, Jace is your family too.”

“Awesome,” Max called out from his spot on the couch, Church sprawled on one side of him and Chairman curled up on the other. “I’ve always wanted a cool older brother.”

Magnus’ eyes narrowed and he pivoted on his heel to face Max. “You will not disrespect your brother in Alexander’s and my home.”

Alec smiled at Magnus’ defense of him, then had to laugh when Magnus glanced over his shoulder, winking at Alec.

“Oh my god,” Max groaned. “You’re totally going to be one of _those_ couples, aren’t you? The ones that always have each other’s back and shamelessly flaunt their happiness?”

“Yes, we are,” Magnus stated unapologetically.

Alec shrugged, biting back a grin. He had no problem with that assessment.

“Clary texted me earlier,” Alec said, changing the subject. Max and Magnus could keep up this back and forth for hours if he didn’t stop them. He sat down at the kitchen counter and set his cell aside. “She’s bringing my new mask here before I meet up with Jace.”

“Excellent,” Magnus trilled and slipped his dress shirt on. “I’m eager to see what it looks like.”

Max’s brows stitched together. “You don’t know, either?”

“Despite what you may think of our cohabitation, Alexander still has a personal life. As do I.”

Max scoffed and waved his hand in Magnus’ general direction. “You could keep it all a bit more ‘personal’ by buttoning that shirt up.” He covered Church’s and Chairman’s eyes, frowning. “Think of the children, Magnus.”

“I have been told I’m a bit of a distraction,” Magnus admitted. “Quite recently, in fact.”

Alec chuckled at that. Despite Magnus’ assertion in the Puck Me group that Alec needed to stay in his pre-game headspace, he hadn’t come anywhere close to it yet. After their heavy conversation last night, he’d worried that he wouldn’t be able to sleep and he’d worried that in the morning, both he and Magnus would be too mired in their own thoughts to be a comfort to each other at all…. But maybe he and Magnus balanced each other out in ways that would benefit them in the long run, not just now.

A “long run” that stretched farther and farther into the future with each second he spent with Magnus.

“You aren’t a ‘bit’ of anything, Magnus Bane.” He tugged Magnus close and began buttoning his shirt for him, ensuring his fingertips met as much skin as possible on their journey up Magnus’ chest. “You are an _epic distraction_.”

Max groaned. “Make it stop.”

Magnus grinned and brushed his fingers over Alec’s beard before he stepped away, dipping his hand into the jewelry bowl on the counter and stacking his rings. “On a related note, apparently Luke decided Catarina would divert his attention, and she isn’t allowed anywhere in the rink where he can see her. This may only be her second hockey game ever, but she’ll be in the owner’s suite with Susanna tonight.”

“And you two?” Alec asked. “With…everything, I obviously haven’t kept up with the group. Where did Tessa place everyone for this game?”

“Clary, Simon, and Isabelle will be in the zamboni room, as usual. There may be a slightly higher possibility of success with me there as well, however…. I need to see you with my own eyes, instead of through a screen.”

“And I want free food,” Max interjected. “So I’ll be in the IE suite with Magnus.”

“Lydia and Imogen, as well. You’ll have a fully stocked cheering section surrounding you from the ice level to on high.”

A cascade of pings filled the room and Alec, Magnus, and Max all picked up their cells.

 

frayedknot: We’re on our way up now! Open the door

 

“‘We?’” Alec furrowed his brow at the notification from the Puck Me group. “I assumed just Clary was coming over.”

“Did I neglect to mention that the other thing I was doing on my phone this morning was planning a pre-finals get together of sorts?”

“ _All_ of them?”

“Tessa couldn’t make it, but everyone else wanted to be here to see you and Jace off.” Alec opened his mouth to respond, but Magnus held up his hand to stop him. “Tessa already approved it. This doesn’t hinder any of your superstitions.”

“I was going to say….” Alec brushed his thumb over Magnus’ jaw, marveling that such an incredible man had chosen him. “…thank you. For everything. Just…everything.”

“You’re welcome, Alexander.”

A frenetic banging echoed from the front door, sending the Chairman and Church scrambling for the safety of the bedroom, and Alec planted a kiss on Magnus’ lips before chaos took over their loft.

Clary stood at the front of the group with her arms extended. “Happy new-helmet-slash-housewarming-slash-finals day!”

Alec braced a hand on the doorjamb and leaned in, giving her his best mock scowl. “I’m very sure that’s not a thing.”

“Now it is!” she declared just as brightly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he replied, unable to hold back a smile in the face of her cheeriness. He stepped back and opened the door fully. “Come on in.”

Clary tackled him around the waist then immediately plowed into Magnus, wrapping him into a bruising hug. Lydia, balancing a box in one hand, popped up to place a kiss on his cheek, Jace clamped a hand on his shoulder as he passed by, then Izzy…. Alec swallowed roughly when he saw the tears shining in his sister’s eyes.

“Iz?”

Izzy grasped hold of his hand then beckoned Magnus over.

“Listen,” Izzy said, her gaze flitting between Magnus and him. “I wasn’t going to say anything. You know, make a big deal of the two of you moving in together. But it _is_ a big deal, and it’s also really, really good. Both of you have had to fight for every ounce of happiness in your lives right now, and that you can share that happiness together…? It’s powerful.”

Alec cleared his throat around the unexpected ball of emotion wedged there. “Thanks, Iz.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you, sunshine?” Magnus replied with a smile.

“Damn straight she does.”

Alec peered out the open door then looked around the loft. “Was that Simon?”

“He didn’t want to miss this,” Izzy said as she held up her phone.

Simon grinned on the screen and waved. “Hey, guys. I have stuff I have to take care of at the arena, but I had to see the big reveal. I didn’t miss it, did I?”

“Nope,” Alec answered as he closed the door.

“So open it already!”

“We’ll get there, Si.”

“What’s in the box?” Simon bellowed in a perfect Brad Pitt impersonation as Izzy carried him into the kitchen.

He turned to find Magnus, Izzy, Jace, Lydia, and Max already standing around the kitchen island. Clary stared down at the counter, all her initial joy wiped away. Her hands gripped the plain cardboard box that Lydia had brought inside.

Alec watched as Lydia and Jace caught eyes, silently communicating something, then Lydia stepped back while Jace leaned into Clary, his hand on her back as he whispered in her ear. The set of Clary’s shoulders melted and the smile returned to her face.

Alec furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

“I wasn’t before, but I am now,” Clary said with a strained laugh. She pushed the box across the counter. “So please just open it already.”

Alec huffed. “Clary—”

“Open it!” everyone yelled at the same time.

Alec chuckled and lifted the flaps, the smile dropping off his face in pure shock when he caught sight of the mask. “Holy fuck.”

Clary had shown him a drawing and he’d had an idea of what it could look like, but this…. This was so far beyond his expectations that he didn’t know what to say.

“Holy fuck,” he repeated.

Clary peered up at him. “You like it?”

Alec shook his head. “I love it. It’s too beautiful to be hit by any pucks.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t use your head to stop any of them,” Magnus deadpanned.

Alec rolled his eyes at Magnus then reached inside to take the mask in his hands, turning it to get a good look at the art.

On one side, a black horse led a chariot with an ethereal figure holding the reins in one hand and a bow triumphantly raised in his grip with the other. On the other side, a white horse led a matching chariot, but this one was guided by a figure standing tall, with its shoulders snapped back and a shield stationed in front of him. White and gold wings extended out of both horses’ backs and curved over the top of the mask, stretching up to meet at the tips at the center.

“The Charioteer,” Magnus murmured.

Alec caught eyes with him and nodded. “It’s had a bit of an influence on my life over the last few months.”

As had the man who’d originally given that book to him—an epic influence, really. But he didn’t have to say that out loud for Magnus to know.

Magnus’ Adam’s apple bobbed as he held Alec’s gaze. “It appears it has.”

“I had to change the color of the flames on the back piece for it to be cohesive,” Clary cut in. “But I left hints of all the colors there. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect, Clary.”

Magnus tugged Clary in with an arm around her shoulder and kissed her head. “It’s beyond stunning, biscuit.”

“I told you he’d love it,” Jace boasted and Clary’s cheeks tinged pink. “Now tell him about the other thing.”

“What other thing?” Alec asked.

“I’m glad you like the mask and the changes I had to make to the back of it,” Clary rushed out. “Because I also designed something else. But you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to. Really.”

Alec lifted an eyebrow and looked to Magnus. “Do you know what this is?”

“I have no idea,” Magnus replied.

Izzy leaned onto the counter and held up her phone. “Show them, Simon.”

Simon pushed up his glasses and leaned off screen. “Art like this really isn’t my thing, so I couldn’t picture it all together until I just saw the mask, and you’re already really intimidating in your full gear—” Simon looked back at the camera “—but wow. Now I can totally visualize how much more of a badass these will make you look on the ice.”

He stood up and took a step back, lifting a set of goalie pads that had the Angels’ sword striking down the middle, bisected perfectly with one side of the sword and flames on each pad and a golden NYBA logo split in half, framing the blade and melting into the churning blue and white flames. That Clary had left hints of the original rainbow colors was even more apparent on the three-foot high pads.

“My god,” Magnus breathed out. “I’m not going to survive tonight.”

“You and a significant portion of the Angels’ fanbase,” Max piped in. He caught eyes with Alec and winked.  “Time to go out there and slay them, Alec.”

“Max is right.” Jace clapped his hand on Alec’s back. “Now that you’re fully suited up, we should get going.”

Alec took a deep breath and wrested his gaping jaw shut. He pulled Clary into his arms. “Thank you.” Those two words felt wholly inadequate, yet all he could muster at this point.

“You’re welcome. I hope it all helps.”

“You have no idea how much it will.”

“I don’t know,” Lydia said with a laugh as she glanced at Jace. “I think she may be starting to get an idea.”

Alec took in Jace’s stupidly lopsided grin in response to that and chuckled. Yeah, maybe she was.

“Good luck today, Lightwood,” Lydia continued. “Go show Bauer why they need to offer you a ridiculously large endorsement deal.”

“And me?” Jace protested.

“You’ll have to talk to your own agent about that,” Lydia teased. “But they’d be idiots not to do a campaign with both of you.”

“She’s right, you know?” Simon called out. “The Predators have no one like the two of you leading them.”

“I was talking about how attractive Jace is,” Lydia clarified.

Izzy shrugged. “Maybe he was too.”

“Oh god,” Simon groaned. “Et tu, Izzy?”

Clary leaned forward so Simon could see her. “If you’re done hitting on our boyfriend, then Lydia and I would like to talk to him before he leaves.”

“I’ll just be here in my pit of shame. Like usual.”

Izzy turned the phone so Simon could see her. “I love you just as you are, Simon.”

“I love you too.”

With that, Simon waved and clicked off the call.

As Clary, Lydia, and Jace sequestered themselves in a corner, Alec peered over his shoulder at Magnus. He was gently packing Alec’s new mask into the duffel, running his fingertips over the “89” painted on the neck guard, but he met Alec’s eyes almost immediately and pointedly glanced at Izzy and Max as if to say _talk to them first_.

Alec nodded and tapped his knuckle against the counter. “So this is really happening. I’m in the finals of the league championship.”

Izzy slipped her cell into her purse and faced him. “I can’t imagine what’s going through your head right now.”

Alec rested his forearms on the counter and ran his fingers over his beard. His bracelet shifted with the movement, catching on the edge of his suit jacket, and he ran his thumb over the feathers, reminding himself to breathe.

He glanced between Izzy and Max, knowing he could be honest with both of them. “I’ve pushed all thoughts of the series away this morning, but I know I can’t do that once I walk out that door.”

“You’ve got this, Alec.” Izzy’s steely-eyed gaze bored into him. “Fuck Raj.”

At the mere mention of that name, Alec’s stomach churned and his grip on his bracelet tightened.

“I don’t know,” Max cut in. “I think Magnus may have a problem with that.”

The tension in Alec’s shoulders eased and he chuffed softly at his brother. “You’re an idiot.”

“Love you too, big bro.”

“‘Bro?’” Alec scoffed. “When did you turn into Jace?”

“We’ve had breakfast a few times,” Jace said as he passed by on his way to the door.

Max hitched his thumb over his shoulder in Jace’s direction. “Cool older brother, remember?”

Alec grumbled and hugged Max. “Never change.”

Izzy wrapped her arms around him then too, smooshing the three of them into a cocoon of Lightwood love that Max groused over half-heartedly.

“Come on, Alec,” Jace called out. “We really do gotta go.”

Alec held up a finger and Jace huffed his displeasure, but Alec extracted himself from his siblings and made his way to Magnus regardless of Jace’s timetable.

He tugged Magnus away from the group and placed himself with his back to the kitchen so they’d have a modicum of privacy. He needed to focus on Magnus and Magnus only right now.

“It’s weird,” Alec started. “This whole gearing up and send off….? It feels almost like I’m going into battle or something.”

“You are, in a way. But you won’t be alone.”

“Yeah. I don’t think any of them would allow that,” Alec joked, trying to tamp down the quickening of his heartbeat.

“You really do need to go, Alexander.” Magnus took a step closer and reached up to cup Alec’s jaw, running his thumb through Alec’s beard. “I had a great morning with you, and I’m glad you’re still here with me, but it’s time for you to focus on your game.”

Alec inhaled deeply. “I know.”

“Tonight, remember how it felt the first time you stopped a puck. Remember that your drive and your passion are just as important as the drills you do every day.” Magnus’ grip was gentle yet firm as he circled his hand around Alec’s neck and drew him in close. “Remember who you are and why you love this game.”

Alec nodded then rested his forehead against Magnus’. He did love this game, but it was love for this man, and love for himself—finally—pushing him forward. “I remember.”

“Tonight will only be your first win, Alexander.”

“ _Our_ first win.”

“Indeed.” Alec’s hammering heartbeat slowed as Magnus leaned forward for a kiss. “I’ll see you after the game.”

“After the game.”

He tracked out behind Jace, down the elevator, and through a lobby festooned in red, gold and blue streamers, only to stop short on the sidewalk.

He hitched his bag up his shoulder and stared at the midnight blue Maserati at the curb. “You got a new car?”

“Yeah, well, a two-door doesn’t really work anymore.” Jace clicked the doors open and a sly smile spread across his face. “The backseat wasn’t big enough for three people.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “I’m playing in the finals with a twelve-year-old.”

“Just get in the car, Alec.”

He dumped his bag into the back, settling into the front seat and a familiar quiet settling between the two of them. Neither of them talked as they crossed the bridge and headed toward Midtown. After hundreds of pre-game drives over the last twelve years, there was nothing more they needed to say to each other.

Some players took the subway to games, and others hired a car to drop them off and pick them up, but he and Jace had started driving to games together once Alec had gotten his license. On every team they’d shared since then, they’d kept that routine. Taking advantage of these last minutes of peace and introspection. Sinking into their headspace.

It may have been his most important superstition…. One he hadn’t fully realized was a superstition at all, until now.

Alec glanced at his best friend and noted the set of his jaw and his grip on the steering wheel. He weaved effortlessly through traffic, but Alec knew where most of Jace’s thoughts were focused. Alec sat back in the leather seat and pushed every other thought away—running through plays and mentally reinforcing his movements. He paid attention to each fine detail he could pick up as they drove, warming up his eyes, strengthening his vision. Strengthening his determination.

Tonight would only be their first win.

As they pulled into the arena lot, Alec stared at the bevy of reporters standing around the player entrance. “Is it normal for there to be so many cameras here for morning skate in the finals?”

“You think _I_ have any fucking idea?” Jace replied as he pulled into his spot.

Alec had to chuckle. If he had to figure out how to maneuver through the unknowns of a championship series, he was glad he had Jace and his overly-confident, sarcastic, give-no-fucks persona at his side through it all.

“Wow,” Jace said, palming his keyfob. “I do know that’s definitely not Santiago’s usual ride.”

Alec glanced over to see Raphael exiting a sleek black sports car…. With Ragnor emerging from the passenger seat. Alec quirked an eyebrow and stepped onto the lot, curiosity getting the better of him.

A few spaces down from them, Ragnor eyed Raphael across the top of the car. “I mean, really. What is the point of having a vintage convertible if you don’t put the top down?”

Raphael rolled his eyes and slipped his door shut without verbally answering Ragnor. Raphael smoothed down his jacket and caught sight of Alec and Jace, standing next to Jace’s car, staring. “ _Buenos días_ , Captains.”

“Nice car,” Jace replied. “But I don’t think you’d turn to ash if you did put the top down.”

“Listen to the blond one,” Ragnor asserted, then faced Alec. “And you….”

Alec raised an eyebrow, unsure what was going to come out of Ragnor’s mouth next.

Ragnor locked eyes with him. “Don’t get hurt out there.”

Alec gaped at the intensity in Ragnor’s voice, attempting to find any words to respond.

Then Ragnor smirked. “I refuse to endure Magnus’ complaints if he has to take care of you.”

And with that, Ragnor stalked out of the parking garage.

“Definitely keep the top up,” Alec said to Raphael.

Raphael snapped his cuffs into place and eyed Alec. “Why do you think I do it in the first place?”

Alec smiled as he extracted his duffel from the backseat, then fell into step with Jace and Raphael as they crossed the lot.

“You’re looking a bit more…styled than usual, Lightwood,” Raphael mused.

This wasn’t a new suit, but it was definitely one of his nicest ones. “How’s that?”

“Yeah, I noticed the tie too,” Jace said. “How the hell did you learn to do a trinity knot?”

Alec stuttered to a stop, ran his fingers over the knot in his tie and groaned. “Magnus.”

Jace shook his head. “I don’t want to know what he was doing that kept you from realizing he was tying that complicated of a knot.”

“What about you, Raphael?” Alec deflected. “What’s up with you and the suit this morning?”

Jace tipped his chin up. “I think the real question is, what the hell is up with _all_ the suits?”

Alec followed the direction of Jace’s gaze to a concrete alcove filled with hockey players—every player on the team and Luke—dressed to the nines.

They diverted toward the setback and Alec called out, “What’s going on?”

At the front of the group, Bat shrugged. “This is how it goes, Captains. You two stay, we all stay.”

“But—”

 “We come into the arena as a team, and we leave as a team,” Pangborn said. “We all agreed on that. The only way we’re going to win this is together.”

Alec glanced at Jace to find him shaking his head with a dimple-popping grin lighting up his face.

“Then let’s go play some hockey.”

 

****

 

_Night of Game One_

_(First game of the Championship Finals)_

 

Magnus gripped the railing as he overlooked the arena from the IE suite, reminding himself to take everything in now so he could recount it to Alec later.

On the ice below, the league championship logo had been painted at center ice, an undeniable reminder of just how different this series would be.

Whoever managed four wins skated away with the cup, while the other team had to begin thinking about their mistakes and how they’d manage to make it back to the finals next year. At the possibly insurmountable odds to make it here at all. There was no playoff schedule as brutal in professional sports.

But the Angels had made it.

With an hour before warm-ups even began, the seats were beginning to fill. In comparison, the IE suite was relatively empty. Lydia stood at one of the table tops, chatting with another IE agent and the owner of a sports training facility who wanted to sell his services to IE’s clients. Max had stationed himself next to the buffet table, becoming intimately acquainted with the crab puffs, chips, and a bowl of nacho cheese so massive it had its own ladle.

Magnus pushed away from the railing and grimaced as he approached Max. “Despite the dubious serving utensil, you do realize nacho cheese is a food and not a beverage?”

“I think this is, optimistically, pseudo-food.” Max held out two bowls, one piled high with tortilla chips and the other filled to the brim with the orange substance that would’ve given Raphael heart palpitations. “Chip?”

“What? No dipping the crab puffs directly into the cheese?”

“Oh my god. That is brilliant.” Max set down his current quarry to fill more bowls. “No wonder Alec’s in love with you.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, choosing not to respond. He swiped up a bottle of water and tipped his head toward the line of high tables behind the rows of seats. While the chairs in their gallery were some of the most comfortable in the arena, this set up allowed Max to prop his legs on a footbar and also stand when he needed to. “We have a while until the game starts, let’s claim the good seats before everyone else shows up.”

Max balanced his bowls and slipped the neck of a beer bottle between his fingers. “Don’t you have to go play nice with clients?”

“I said hello,” Magnus stated as he coaxed a few bowls out of Max’s arms and dropped them on the table. “Handing off introductory relationship management to my less-seasoned colleagues is one of the benefits of being a senior agent.”

“And you get to spend time with me.”

He could’ve slipped in a retort that Max had likely set him up for. Instead, Magnus leaned an elbow onto the table next to him and smiled. “That is always a benefit, Max.”

Max simply grinned and stuffed another cheese-coated puff into his mouth.

On the TVs hanging down from the ceiling, pregame coverage was well underway—analysis, highlights of past games, and player spotlights all interspersed with live shots of the national broadcast announcers set up in a booth at the far end of the rink. Now that Magnus knew who he was, it was impossible to miss the tall, broad-shouldered centreman who wore number ninety-one for the Predators when he flashed across the screen.

If Max’s grimace was any indication, then he didn’t either.

Magnus took a sip of his water and glanced at Max. “How are you handling being in the same building as Raj?”

“It’s not the first time.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“I’m worried for Alec, I’m hyper-aware of my prosthetic in a way I haven’t been since middle school, and I’m somewhat head-fucked about how I should feel at all.” Max shrugged. “How’s that for an answer?”

“It’s an honest one.”

“Even though I didn’t know the details of what happened that day until much later, everything seems a bit fresher with the anniversary of the accident.”

“Perhaps because some of those old wounds were freshly opened over the last month.”

“Definitely.” Max met his eyes then. “How are you handling it?”

“It’s…strange. I can read all his stats online, as well as his tumultuous history with other teams, and how Nashville seems to be a better fit than any other team he’s been traded to. Then there’s the stories I’ve heard from Alec, Clary, and Simon…. But I really don’t know him—who he really is as a person—at all.”

“I can relate. I mean, I knew him as one of Alec’s teammates and friends, but I didn’t know he was Alec’s boyfriend, and I was _nine_ when the accident happened….” Max shook his head, frowning. “There’s still a lot I don’t remember from around that time.”

Magnus nodded in understanding. “Our brains have a way of ‘protecting’ us from trauma—sometimes in ways that aren’t helpful at all.”

“Tell me about it.”

Magnus picked up his water bottle and tipped it toward Max. “Here’s to hoping for a drama-free series.”

Max barked out a laugh and knocked his beer against Magnus’ water. “Good luck with that.”

“Help,” Lydia said as she appeared at Max’s side. “Please pretend like we’re engaged in a really important conversation. I can’t stand one more second of talking about ketones, fast twitch muscles, or the benefits of high-altitude training facilities on endurance.”

Max held out his bowl. “Chip?”

“Only if you have that melty nacho cheese you can only get at stadiums, ballparks, and arenas.”

Max grinned and pushed the other bowl in front of her.

“God, yes.”

Magnus chuckled and checked the time on his cell. It would be another thirty minutes or so before the teams took to the ice for warm-ups, so he sent an exploratory text to Alec. _What stage of dress (or undress) are you in now?_

_Just about to strap on my pads and go stretch_ , Alec replied immediately.

Magnus swallowed thickly. The mental images were pure, delicious torture. _…And you said the belly chain killed you_

_:) How about a sneak peek at something being posted to the Angels’ Instagram account?_

Magnus prepared for death to come swiftly, yet never could have readied himself completely for the image that popped through—all of the Angels’ players and coaching staff in the locker room, squeezed in together with smiles on their faces…all of them wearing their pre-game suits. Alec towered over the player next to him, his suit coat brushed aside, his hand on his hip, and a knowing smile on his lips as if he was looking directly at Magnus instead of into a camera.

Magnus struggled to catch his breath.

“You okay there, Magnus?” Max asked.

He twisted his cell so Max and Lydia could share his pain.

“Wow,” Lydia breathed out.

Magnus groaned and clicked his screen dark. “My god. It has to be against league regulations for hockey players to be this stunning.”

“Says the man who Alec eye-fucks every time you’re within sight.”

Magnus texted a line of skeleton emojis to Alec and scoffed. “Alec, yes. But I don’t inspire the same reactions from the masses that he does.”

“Alright,” Max said, swishing his curls off his forehead as he sat back. “I shouldn’t say this at all since I’m pretty sure you’ll be my brother someday too, but I’m absolutely sure that the only reason you don’t have people fawning over you all day is because they’re stunned into submission by your confidence, charm, strength, _and_ ridiculous good looks. You’re gorgeous in a really overwhelming way.”

Lydia tipped her head and surveyed Magnus from head to feet. “I see no lie.”

Magnus laughed softly and crossed his arms, biting back a grin. “Objectively speaking, our entire group is preternaturally good looking.”

“It’s not realistic, is it?” Lydia mused.

“Or fair to the rest of humanity,” Max added. “But it makes my Instagram feed much more aesthetically pleasing.” He extended his arm, holding out his cell far enough to capture the three of them. “Smile.”

“Make sure to tag me in that one,” Lydia requested.

Max looked to Magnus. “What about you?”

A few short weeks ago, Magnus would’ve said no—that it was safer for him not to be tied publicly to Alec in any way that could be construed as personal instead of professional. But Alec had made it clear that he wasn’t hiding anymore. “Tag away, curly-haired Lightwood.”

Max leaned over his cell, thumbs tapping away, and Magnus caught sight of Imogen strolling through the door, clad in another classically elegant outfit.

The last time they’d sat together in this suite had been the fourth game of the conference finals, when things between he and Alec were drastically different. He hadn’t spoken to her about his relationship with Alec since then because there hadn’t been a need. However, with his presence here tonight and Max at his side, there was no more avoiding it. Magnus realized with a start that in the emotional maelstrom of the last few days, this was one conversation he hadn’t prepared for at all.

Magnus’ cell pinged and he glanced at the message from Alec. _I’m leaving my phone in the locker room now. I’ll have Jace text you a pic when I’m all geared up_

He pushed back his sudden bout of nerves and sent off— _Please do_

“I guess that means I should go back to work,” Lydia said, tipping her head toward Imogen. She brushed off her hands on a napkin. “Save me a seat here for the game. And some more of that cheese.”

Lydia greeted Imogen then swept past her, heading back to the client, and Imogen faced Magnus and Max.

“Good evening, Imogen,” Magnus greeted, subtly wicking the sweat from his palms.

“Magnus. Max.”

Max held out a bowl for her. “You gotta try the crab puffs dipped in the cheese.”

Imogen raised an eyebrow. And well, so did Magnus.

“You know you can trust me,” Max prodded.

Imogen cracked a hint of a smile and swiped one of the pastry balls through the cheese, downing it in one bite, then accepting a napkin from Max. “Much more palatable than the deep-fried mozzarella sticks.”

“Delicious, right? The next time we meet up to go over financials, I’ll pick the place.”

“I look forward to it,” Imogen said genuinely. Before Magnus could fully process the overt familiarity in their conversation, she met his eyes. “Can we have a word, Magnus?”

“Of course, Imogen.”

Imogen led him down the steps to the front of the suite and surveyed the ice. Magnus took the spot next to her and waited for her to speak.

When it appeared she’d taken in all of the arena, and taken the time to compose her thoughts, Imogen looked at him. “Max hadn’t told you I’m one of his investors.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. They were more than familiar, they were business partners. “He hadn’t.”

“He presented his business idea at a women’s venture capital group I’m a part of. Most of my colleagues were hesitant about associating with a Lightwood because of their rumored ties to the Morgenstern family. However, I had none of the same hesitations.”

“You know that not all Lightwoods are quite so accepting of the Morgensterns.”

Imogen nodded. “Max is just as upstanding as Alec and Isabelle—if a bit rough around the edges. But his bluntness will serve him well.”

“He’ll be just as successful as his brother and sister someday.”

“I have no doubt.” Imogen’s gaze bored into him. “But he isn’t here tonight as one of my guests.”

Magnus took a deep breath. “I invited him. Alec and I are together.”

“I see.”

“A week ago—”

Imogen shut him down with one look. “I won’t let my personal biases on relationships interfere, as they have before.” Imogen stated. “I wish the best for you two.”

Magnus searched her features. “Is there a caveat to that sentence?”

“No, Magnus. I really do.”

“Then I’d like to hear your thoughts as my employer.” Magnus settled his hip against the railing and faced her. “As…unfiltered as you are willing to give them.”

“Very well. We are in the business of relationships. Your involvement with Alec will be a complication, but I trust that you will also find a way to make it an asset.”

Magnus’ heart sank just as much as his resolve solidified. “Respectfully, Imogen, I won’t. He’s been treated as a commodity for most of his life, and I won’t be a part of that. But it is unavoidable that my relationship with him will inform the decisions I make moving forward—both in business and in my personal life.”

“It’s a delicate line you’re walking.”

“I’m aware.”

“I know you are.” With that, Imogen settled into one of the front row seats and motioned for Magnus to sit with her. When they were settled, Imogen glanced at him. “While the results speak for themselves, I hear you managed yourself particularly well in Alec’s negotiation.”

“It was unlike any other negotiation I’ve ever been in,” Magnus admitted. “I won’t shed any tears over Rufus Hastings leaving the Angels.”

“I don’t trust him,” Imogen said around a distinct frown. “He and I have never inhabited the same social circles, but there’s the occasional overlap. Enough that I wasn’t surprised with your written report.”

Magnus shook his head. “I’m still not quite sure what happened. However, it was my first sports contract, so this is all new to me.”

“Disagreements at the executive level aren’t uncommon. Airing them in a negotiation is. Whatever is happening behind the scenes, despite our shared connections, I haven’t heard any rumors.”

Magnus’ stomach sank. There was little the super-wealthy enjoyed more than lurid gossip. “ _That_ is not normal.”

“It isn’t.”

Magnus sighed. “This isn’t going to be a drama-free series, is it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Magnus said as he shook his head. “I’m just getting prepared.”

 

****

 

Until a few minutes ago, the locker room had been filled with press and VIP guests wishing the team good luck. Even Susanna and the outgoing general manager, Rufus Hastings, had made their way down.

Alec was relieved to have them all gone now.

He paused from securing his pads and lifted his jersey, staring at the newest patch affixed to the shoulder—the championship cup. It was the same patch each of his teammates and the Predators would wear onto the ice, but only one team would emerge from this series with the actual cup in their hands.

It was only thirty minutes until the teams took to the ice for warm-ups and Alec would no longer be able to delay the inevitable. Raj would be on that ice with him, whether he was fully prepared for it or not. And if he was going to raise the championship cup, then Raj couldn’t be a factor in his game.

“Fuck!”

Alec’s head shot up with that yell from the hallway, followed immediately by a thump against the wall. He rushed to his feet with Meliorn and Thomas on his heels, pads only half-strapped on.

“What the hell—” Alec started, then glared at his teammates barreling down the hallway, especially Jace—who had a soccer ball bouncing between his feet.

Raphael smirked. “Just warming up, Captain.”

Alec rolled his eyes even as Bergeron slammed into Jace and stole the ball away from him, kicking it into the net they’d set up down the corridor.

“Whose team am I on?” Meliorn asked as he brushed past Alec.

Thomas wasn’t far behind. “You want a new kind of warm up, Lightwood?”

Alec chuckled. “No fucking way.”

Jace winked. “It is faster paced and higher scoring without someone guarding the net.”

“Not you too,” Alec groaned.

“What?” Raphael questioned.

“There’s a subset of hockey fans who are trying to make the case that the game would be more interesting without goalies,” Jace explained.

“They also argued that the league should use a wooden playing surface instead of ice,” Alec pointed out.

Bergeron stared at Alec in disbelief. “But what about the skates?”

“None of those, either.”

“ _Putain d’abrutis_ ,” Rousseau muttered.

“Word,” Bosch said as they fist bumped.

“I’m gonna go get ready for a real hockey game,” Alec said as he tromped through. “Have fun playing with your balls.”

A chorus of cackles followed him into the stretching room, but it took only seconds for Alec to hear them starting up the game again.

On another day he would’ve joined in. Maybe forty-some games ago, when Luke was still starting Jordan Kyle in the net occasionally. His teammates may have been good with switching up superstition, but Alec couldn’t.

Not today.

There was no way to completely block out the noise from the hallway, even with the heavy door shut, but the background noise was part of his centering routine by now. Of immersing himself in the moment and separating himself from it all, but not being alone. Much as it would be for him on the ice.

He settled into his routine, placing all his focus on his body and movement. Outside the room he heard the occasional swear word, laughter, and celebration, but Alec maintained his breath and positioning, warming up his muscles and clearing his head.

Tonight, he had a chance to extend his shutout streak to nine games in a row and ten overall in the playoffs. Just like all his other stats, it was a number he was aware of but wouldn’t affect his play. Saves, goals against, shots on goal, scoring chances…. All of those numbers held meaning and importance, yet he mentally wiped them all away, setting each statistic back to zero because all that mattered was tonight….

Alec clenched his jaw.

Except there was one number he couldn’t forget.

He curled over his knees, stretching his arms forward as he tried to ease the tension from his shoulders. That glaring ninety-one permeated his thoughts every time he tried to scrub it away—like graffiti splashed across a surface so porous, it could never be fully eradicated. There were too many memories tied to that number and one painfully clear memory binding it to the eighty-nine stitched into his own jersey.

He heard Magnus’ voice in his head, stating that he would be thrown, but the only other choice was to shut down. He stopped fighting the invasion of that number and breathed into the stretch, holding it until he felt true warmth spreading under his skin.

Only then did he stand, resituating the Angels’ cap on his head and pushing into the hallway, ready to gear up completely. He headed toward the music and chattering voices emanating from the locker room, tromping past the arena staff engrossed in their own responsibilities as the game start drew closer, and nodded to Rufus Hastings as he passed by.

He hadn’t engaged with Rufus earlier, and he wouldn’t now. He was playing tonight and would be for the next five years, despite Rufus’ attempts to blackball him.

“Alec Lightwood?”

Alec caught eyes with a woman with white hair cascading over her shoulders as she approached him. “Can I help you?”

“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “We need to talk.”

Alec glanced at her Predators’ shirt. It wasn’t normal for a member of the press to wear any merchandise that spoke to their own team affinity and the usual press badge didn’t dangle around her neck, but very few people had clearance to enter the player level before a game. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do any interviews until after the game. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have then.”

He took a step forward, but the woman held up her hand, stopping him. “Oh, I’m not press.”

“Alec,” Luke barked out from the locker room door. “I need you in here.”

A lick of foreboding slinked up his spine as he took in Luke’s authoritative posture.

Alec nodded at his coach, then refocused on the woman. “I’d be happy to talk to you after the game.”

“No.” The woman gripped Alec’s arm. “We need to talk now.”

Before Alec could react, Luke strode out of the doorway. “You don’t touch any of my players!”

The woman took a step back, hands up, but a grin stretched across her features as Rufus swept past Alec and stepped between her and Luke. “Lucien. She has the right to be here.”

“This level belongs to me before a game, and she doesn’t have _my_ permission.” Luke stood inches away from Rufus, his features etched in fury, anger matched by the sneer on Rufus’ face. “Neither of you do.”

Alec swallowed against the sudden bolt of panic tightening this throat. This had to be a spillover from the power struggle at his negotiation. “Coach?”

“Hey,” Jace called out from the locker room door. He faced the standoff and crossed his arms. “We need security, Coach?”

Jace stepped into the hallway and it began to fill with players as they vacated the locker room to see what was happening, but Luke’s gaze never left their general manager’s face. “You tell me, Rufus.”

“She has _my_ permission to be here,” Rufus answered, undaunted by the growing audience.

Luke gave a clipped nod. “We’re gonna need security, Jace.”

Jace pivoted on his heel, but Kadir was already on the radio.

“Hold up, hold up,” the woman said. She slipped out from behind Rufus. “We don’t need to escalate this at all. I just wanted to introduce myself to Alec. I’m Gretel Monroe—Rufus’ granddaughter.” Gretel held out her hand. “And Raj’s fiancée.”

Alec froze.

It hadn’t been Sebastian who’d outed him to Rufus.

It had been Raj.

“Jesus. _That’s_ how you knew?” Jace yelled as he barreled toward Rufus. Alec grabbed hold of him, yanking him back. “What is this? Revenge? Punishment? You sick fuck!”

Rufus calmly turned, his cool gaze locking onto Jace. “Do I need to remind you that your next contract still isn’t finalized, Mr. Wayland?”

“Are you really threatening one of your own players?”

Alec clenched his jaw, but couldn’t hold his reply in. “He already did. It was just behind closed doors when he did it to me.”

Silence fell over the hallway and Alec winced.

“What the hell are you talking about, Lightwood?” Bosch asked.

Alec gritted his teeth. If he said anything more about what Rufus had done to him in that negotiation, then every person around him would be able to connect the dots. He’d be outing Raj.

He wouldn’t do that.

He fisted his hands, taking in deep breaths, and focused on Jace. There was a whole hell of a lot he and Jace could communicate through looks, and that he didn’t want to out Raj was a message he needed Jace to hear louder than anything else right now. “Not here.”

Jace met his eyes, visibly reining himself back in. He swiped his hands through his hair and nodded. “Let’s finish getting dressed.”

Alec didn’t spare Rufus or Gretel another glance as he headed for the locker room with Jace at his back.

“You’re not man enough to defend yourself when everyone can see?” Gretel called out.

“‘Man enough?’” Pangborn repeated with a snort. “That is some ignorant shit, right there.”

“I’ve said some really ignorant stuff, and that’s definitely worse,” Bat added. “Don’t take the bait, Lightwood. We all know the truth.”

Jace clamped his hand on Alec’s shoulder and Alec kept walking.

“Rufus, get her out of here,” Luke warned from behind him. “If you don’t, I’ll have security intervene.”

“If he can’t handle a harmless verbal challenge in here, then how is he supposed to handle it out there?”

“Fuck this,” Luke growled. “I’m done. Get them out of here.”

Alec’s steps faltered and he glanced over his shoulder at Luke, who was waving the security guards in.

Gretel honed in on him, a malicious sneer on her lips even as security approached. “Maybe you need a real woman to teach you how to be a man….”

Alec heard the unspoken end of that sentence. _It worked for Raj._

His stomach bottomed out.

“Alec,” Jace implored. “Just keep walking.”

“Oh, that one got through,” Gretel said with a laugh. “Have a good game, Alec.”

“What the fuck just happened?” Bosch questioned as Rufus and Gretel were escorted out.

Jace glared at Bosch, silencing him.

Alec hung his head. He couldn’t look any of his teammates in the eye or else they’d know. They’d be able to read every ounce of anger, betrayal, and sadness—fuck, so much more sadness than he’d thought was still there—in his features.

Luke stepped up to him. “Let it go, Alec.”

Alec inhaled sharply through his nose. “Luke—”

“Forget about them.” Luke tipped his head. “If you fail, it will only prove his point, son. They’re trying to throw you off your game.”

He knew. He really did.

But the problem was….

Alec’s heart pounded as he lifted his eyes to his coach. “It’s working.”

 

****

 

Magnus’ cell pinged and he glanced down, expecting to see the promised picture from Jace, but found Cat’s name on his screen instead.

He clicked the message open, his heartbeat speeding as his gaze ran over the lines. He shot to his feet, hands shaking as he buttoned his jacket. “Lydia, we have to go.”

In the seat next to him, Max’s head snapped up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Magnus answered honestly. “Stay here and I’ll text you as soon as I can.”

Lydia was already halfway to the suite door, but Max caught his arm, stopping him.

“Magnus. Is it Alec—?”

“Please, Max….” Magnus said. He caught the abject fear flashing across Max’s face and his shoulders slumped. He took a deep breath and leaned down. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I have to assume that if it was something critical, it would be Izzy calling you, not Cat texting me.”

Max inhaled a shaky breath and let Magnus go. “Okay. Just text me when you can.”

Magnus patted his back, then took off, Lydia’s heels clicking against the tile as she sped up to keep pace with him. “What’s going on?”

“Catarina texted me. She said Luke needs us in the locker room.”

“Both of us?”

Magnus furrowed his brow and nodded. The only reason Luke would ask for both of them is if there was a situation that involved both Jace and Alec. His determined steps faltered as another text came through—this time from Jace. His stomach sank as he read the message.

“Jace says to get down there right away. Alec needs us.”

“Fuck,” Lydia breathed out. “Is he okay?”

Magnus’ mind raced over the possibilities—hoping that the scenarios coursing through his overly vivid imagination would be worse than the reality. But with Jace seemingly not in the center of whatever was happening in the locker room, Luke’s request for Lydia and Magnus meant this was professional _and_ personal for Alec.

And they had less than thirty minutes before the puck dropped.

Magnus tried to push down the dread racing through his veins. “I don’t know.”

Lydia flashed her credentials to the security guard at the elevator leading to the players’ level. When the doors swished shut behind them and the elevator attendant had pushed the button for the bottom floor, she crossed her arms and faced Magnus. “I think I may have an idea what’s going on.”

Magnus gritted his teeth. The defiant tilt of Lydia’s shoulder set Magnus’ defenses on full alert. “Would you care to enlighten me?”

“I’m sorry, Magnus. I can’t. Not until I know for sure.”

Magnus grimaced. “Raj.”

“Maybe,” Lydia allowed. She sighed heavily and glanced at the elevator attendant before she leaned in. “Look. All you need to know right now is that, yes, I may be friends with Raj, but I haven’t violated your or Alec’s trust, and I won’t with Raj either. Unless….”

“Unless?”

“I saw something yesterday that has me thinking he may not be telling me the full truth. And if it’s what I suspect….” Lydia inhaled sharply and clenched her jaw. “Then I’ll hold back my own anger and put Alec’s career first. But you…. You need to be prepared to calm Alec down and keep him from losing his cool. And since Jace is saying Alec needs you, I think Alec may already be at that point.”

Magnus was well-acquainted with a scathing, defensive Alec. How the anger he carried under his skin, carefully locked in check, could burst out when he was under pressure. It had been months since he’d seen that side of Alec, though. Alec was living his life out in the open now, even if he hadn’t crossed that threshold of a public coming out. Unlike before the playoffs had started, Alec now understood just how much support he had behind him….

What would cause Alec to be so thrown that Luke would call for Lydia and him right before a game?

Magnus warily stepped into the locker room to find Alec slumped on the bench and Luke crouched in front of him. Magnus ran his eyes over Alec, searching for any sign of a physical injury and finding none. His anxiety spiked.

“You can’t put me in the net tonight,” Alec gritted out.

“Finish getting dressed, Lightwood.”

“Coach—”

Luke’s fearsome stare brooked no argument. “Finish getting dressed and get onto that ice.”

Alec swore under his breath as he hung his head and dug his skates into the floor.

Magnus’ stomach sank. This was so much worse than anger. Alec looked…defeated.

Before he could take another step inside and before Alec even caught sight of him, Lydia was at Alec’s side and Jace was corralling Magnus out into the hallway.

“What the hell happened?” Magnus snapped.

“Raj’s fiancée is Rufus’ granddaughter. She made a point of Alec knowing that before the game started.”

Magnus clenched his jaw. He couldn’t filter out the rage surging through him, even as the Angels’ players began filing past him, congregating in the hallway.

Magnus glanced at them, then leaned in toward Jace. “It wasn’t Sebastian who outed him.”

Jace shook his head. “It was Raj. But I may have made things worse. I went off on Rufus…. And between what I said, and what Rufus’ granddaughter said, we drew a connection between Raj and Alec.”

While his mind had been engaged on figuring out who to direct his anger at first—Rufus and Raj’s fiancée for ambushing Alec, Lydia for not giving them a warning if she’d discovered this connection yesterday, or Luke and Susanna for possibly sitting on this information for at least a week—all those thoughts were washed away under the realization why Alec had dropped into regret instead of fury.

Magnus dragged Jace farther away from his teammates. “He’s worried about outing Raj.”

“I knew he was. But I didn’t even think of that when Rufus was standing right there. He came at Alec on purpose. Our own fucking general manager.”

Magnus gave Jace a clipped nod. “Let me talk to Alec.”

But Jace set his palm on Magnus’ chest, holding him back. “I know I’m the one who told you to get down here, but you have to be completely honest with me. Is Alec seeing you going to make things better or worse?”

Magnus couldn’t be sure, but he had to try. He flicked Jace’s hand off and slipped past him. “We’re about to find out.”

A plethora of whisper-shouted swear words spilled out of Jace’s mouth, but Magnus stepped inside the locker room anyway. “Alec.”

Alec’s head snapped up and he grimaced, getting to his feet and putting his back to Magnus. Magnus crossed the room, undeterred.

“I don’t think you should be here. I don’t—” Alec gripped the shelf where his mask laid. He wasn’t meeting Magnus’ eyes. “Fuck.”

Magnus glanced around the locker room. Besides Lydia and Luke in a tense conversation in the corner of the room, they were alone.

There was so much he could say—that Alec needed to ignore everything Raj’s fiancée had said, that Rufus was a homophobic asshole, or that Raj had forfeited Alec’s protection when he’d shown up at the Lightwood household to out Alec years ago…. But all those platitudes gave Alec excuses to deflect his emotions onto someone else. If Alec was going to make it through tonight, then he needed to live with his discomfort instead of pushing it away. Alec had said that much himself.

Magnus just needed to reassure him it was okay for him to feel.

He took a step closer and cleared his throat. “Jace doesn’t know if I should be here either, but this is how we’ve always done things, right? In opposition to how things ‘should’ be. Making our own path because we were stumbling along, discovering what was right for us.”

Alec frowned. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Magnus.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for when it comes to us…. Or with your feelings about Raj,” Magnus reassured him. “It’s okay to be wrecked. To be sad and angry at the same time. It’s okay to be conflicted about how you feel at all. You loved him.”

The muscles in Alec’s jaw stood out in stark relief as he clenched it tight. He tapped his fingers against the shelf, his gaze locked to the floor.

“We’re in this together,” Magnus continued. “Not just you and I. All of your teammates, your Coach, your trainer. Clary, Simon, and Isabelle in the zamboni room. Max, Catarina, and Imogen up in the suites. Tessa, Will, and Jem. Lydia. Jocelyn….” Magnus stepped over the bench and leaned against the cubby so he could look Alec in the eye. He gave a shrug as nonchalant as he could muster. “Even Ragnor, wherever he’s stomped off to for the day.”

Alec huffed, his shoulders easing. His fingers stilled.

“But the thing is, Alexander….” Magnus took a deep breath and focused intently on Alec. “For all of us to be in this together, _you_ have to be here too.”

Alec sucked in a breath through his teeth and finally met Magnus’ eyes. “I can’t shut down.”

“You _won’t_.”

Alec pushed back from the cubby. “I have to go warm up.”

Magnus lifted his hand and slipped Alec’s mask off the shelf. “Go do your job, goaltender.”

Without a look back, Alec took off for the rink with Jace at his side, and Magnus was immediately flanked by the rest of the Angels’ first line.

“He’s trying not to let this affect him—” Magnus started.

“But it is,” Raphael said, cutting Magnus off. “We know.”

“We’ve got him,” Meliorn added.

“No,” Magnus insisted. “Don’t go out there thinking he’s going to need extra protection or for someone to forego their own role to take on his responsibilities. He’s strong. Give him the warm up to get back into his headspace and he’ll figure it out.”

“You sure about that, Bane?”

Magnus didn’t hesitate to meet Raphael’s eyes. “Completely.”

“We can do that,” Pangborn replied.

“Good luck out there.” Magnus clenched his jaw and looked each of them in the eye in turn. “Absolutely destroy them.”

A mad grin lit up Bat’s face. “We will.”

 

****

 

Alec focused on his steps, on drawing breath into his lungs, and the weight of his mask tucked into his arm and the pads strapped onto his legs. His teammates stepped aside as he passed, and Alec straightened his shoulders as he and Jace led them toward the tunnel and the glaring arena lights…. _Fuck_. That light at the end of the tunnel that was either hope, like the fierce light in Magnus’ eyes as he’d reminded Alec he wasn’t alone, or an oncoming train—

Like the one that had barreled into Max ten years ago.

Alec flinched.

“Let’s get your armor on, Alec.”

He caught eyes with Jace and nodded, steeling himself.

His anger he understood and could hide behind, using it like a shield, and until Magnus had shown up, he’d been trying to tell himself that anger was okay, but he shouldn’t feel sadness or regret. That if he did, it was somehow a betrayal of his love for Magnus.

But maybe….

Maybe he felt that sadness and regret about Raj because now he knew what real love felt like.

He fisted his left hand as the numb spot flared, a reminder that would never fully disappear. But for the first time in ten years, he understood that was okay too.

He stretched out his right arm and Jace tugged his blocker into place, then his glove. Alec flexed his fingers then slipped his mask on. The sound of his breath echoed in his ears as he slipped his mitt over the numbness, palmed his stick, and nodded to Jace.

Cameras flashed as they passed by the VIP viewing area of the Marlowe Club, but Alec ignored the cheers and focused on the deeply grooved concrete strip at the edge of the rink, bitten down by the tread of skates. The final barrier between theory and reality.

Magnus was right. He had the ultimate choice about how much of himself emerged onto that ice.

Jace pulled his helmet on then slapped a hand to Alec’s back, coaxing him to emerge first. Alec didn’t hesitate. He pushed off from the concrete strip, head held high, to thundering applause.

He skated over the championship logo painted below the ice, digging the first marks into the glassy surface. Jace smiled as he whipped past him, gaining momentum. After one lap around their half of the ice, the Predators came flying out of their tunnel, filling the other side of the rink.

Raj didn’t even try to make eye contact with him, just like every other game they’d played against each other for years now.

Alec settled into the net, taking shots from his teammates and loosening up his muscles again. The familiarity of routine, the chill of ice, and the heft of his gear steadily dropping him into his headspace.

When he skated out to give Kyle his time in the net, Alec met up with the first line in the corner, studying the other side of the ice as they stretched.

“Their goalie makes wild saves,” Pangborn noted, then noticed Alec approaching. “No offense, Lightwood.”

“He’s good,” Alec admitted. The Preds wouldn’t have made it this far if he wasn’t. “But his blocker side is weak, especially when you coax him out of the net. Take advantage of that.”

He started to push away to keep his muscles warm and Raphael snagged him. “Since no one else is asking it, I’m going to. What’s the situation between you and Raj Bhandari?”

Alec glanced at Jace, who gave a minuscule shake of his head. He hadn’t told them anything, and Alec wasn’t going to offer much either. He wouldn’t lie to his teammates, but this wasn’t solely his story to tell.

“We played together in college my freshman year, then he transferred,” he responded.

“That’s not the whole story,” Pangborn challenged.

“Yeah. I know.”

“But Wayland said—” Bat started. His gaze swiveled between Alec and Jace. “Jesus. He found out you were gay long before you were out, didn’t he? Was this a homophobia thing?”

It was a love thing, and a fear thing. Betrayal, pain. And yes, outing Alec to his parents had been a homophobia thing.

“Something like that,” Alec hedged.

Meliorn’s too-aware scrutiny landed on him. “Rufus used Bhandari’s knowledge to undermine your negotiation.”

The numbness in Alec’s hand hadn’t crept any farther, but it lingered under his skin. He crashed the handle of his stick against his mitt, sending tingling sensations to his shoulder, and breathed. With each flick of his stick he reminded himself of the pain he’d endured and survived.

_No_.

Not just survived. He’d thrived.

“It doesn’t matter what Rufus or Raj tried to do. It didn’t work.”

Bat clenched his jaw and nodded.

“Don’t let that motherfucker play you,” Jace gritted out. “You are the best goalie in the world, Alec.”

Alec cracked his neck, then nodded at his best friend. “You take care of your side of the ice and I’ll take care of mine.”

He could do this.

He _would_ do this.

For the fans. For Luke. For Clary, Lydia, Simon, Izzy, and Max. For Jace and all his teammates. For Magnus.

But mostly, for himself.

Because he deserved for every piece of himself to be on this ice tonight.

Pangborn watched Raj circling his side of the rink. “We can shut him down.”

But Alec shook his head, his resolve taking hold.

“Let him come at me. He isn’t getting through.”

 

****

 

Magnus glared at the text from Susanna— _This will in no way affect Jace’s contract_ —as he waited for the elevator back to the suites. Instead of replying with a vicious condemnation of her failure to protect two of her players, he clicked out of that thread and typed a message to Max that Alec was physically okay and that he’d be up to talk to him within minutes.

_Physically okay_ was the key to that sentence, and the key to Magnus’ turmoil. Max would read right through that to the true meaning, but Magnus wasn’t thinking clearly enough right now for doublespeak and, even if he had been, he wouldn’t lie to Max. While Alec wouldn’t end up on injured reserve, he wasn’t okay, and therefore, neither was Magnus.

Magnus heaved a sigh and slumped against the wall.

Lydia was already on her way to the executive suites, summoned by Susanna and the Angels’ owner, Victor Whitelaw. If Luke hadn’t been minutes away from the first game of the finals, Magnus guessed that Alec’s coach would’ve demanded to attend as well.

In the minutes after the Angels had taken to the ice, it had become obvious that neither Lydia nor Luke had the full story, and that neither of them were willing to divulge the little they did know—not to each other, and definitely not to Magnus. For Luke, not until the game was over, and for Lydia, not until she had the complete picture.

He couldn’t be angry with either of them, though. Despite the metaphorically muddied waters of their own actions, their fury nearly matched Magnus’. Gretel had been the unknown factor that neither of them had seen coming until too late.

“Back to the suite level?” a voice called out.

Magnus snapped his head up to the elderly attendant peeking out of the elevator. He hadn’t even heard the doors open.

“Please,” he responded.

He couldn’t manage a smile, but unlike when he and Lydia had stormed their way down here, he made the effort to nod an acknowledgment and make eye contact this time. In the presence of darkness, it was even more important to show common kindness.

The doors slid shut with him as the only occupant and the attendant hit the button. “Eventful night already.”

“Unwelcome events,” Magnus grumbled.

“Mr. Whitelaw won’t let this stand, and neither will Ms. Vargas,” the man assured him when the doors were closed. He shook his head sadly. “I never would’ve let Mr. Hastings and his granddaughter down there if I’d known they’d cause a ruckus. Protecting these boys is my job.”

Magnus held the man’s gaze, piecing together the reasons behind the man’s almost parental safeguarding. “You’ve spent a lot of time with them through the years.”

“Not as much time as Mr. Garroway, but enough. I’ve been here twenty-eight years.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Magnus reassured him genuinely. “If Luke didn’t see this coming…. Or _me_ …. I should have—”

“Alec will be fine,” the man cut in, insistent.

Magnus wasn’t surprised the man knew about his former business relationship with Alec, he’d made the trek between top and bottom floors enough times now for any of the arena staff to be aware. “He’s strong.”

“That he is,” the man agreed. He tipped his head toward the opening doors. “This is your floor.”

Magnus stepped away from the wall and offered his hand. “I’m Magnus.”

“I know.”

“I suppose it’s your job to know,” Magnus replied.

“I don’t think Mr. Lightwood realizes how much he talks about you. Or how he looks when he does.” He shook Magnus’ hand in a firm grip. “I’m Wilf.”

The smile he’d been unable to coax to the surface only moments ago cracked through. And perhaps a bit of a blush.

“Thank you for watching over him, Wilf,” Magnus responded. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“I’ll be here when you’re ready to head back down.”

As the doors closed on Wilf, Magnus rolled his shoulders, shedding some of this tension. Alec had even more support than either of them fully realized. He paused to check his reflection, then pushed into the IE suite.

Max sat hunched over his phone in the same spot Magnus had left him. His head snapped up at the sound of the door opening and he caught eyes with Magnus.

The IE suite was nearly full, so Magnus waited to speak until he was leaned in close to Max. “There was an incident in front of the locker rooms with the outgoing GM and his granddaughter…. Who is, apparently, Raj’s fiancée.”

Max slumped into his chair. “Fuck.”

“Indeed,” Magnus acknowledged. He sat down next to Max and scooted his chair closer. “They ambushed Alec. And Lydia told me Rufus also threatened Jace’s contract.”

“But why? Between Alec’s negotiation and this, he’s acting like a six-year-old. Like….” Max furrowed his brow. “It’s almost like, if he can’t win the game, then he’s going to overturn the whole board.”

Magnus glanced at Alec facing practice shots in the net. His movements weren’t as smooth as usual. In front of the net, Jace, apparently just as focused on watching Alec as Magnus was, missed a pass from Bosch.

Magnus sighed. “Or put two of his best pieces out of play.”

“If they win the cup, as the general manger Rufus gets a championship ring too. I don’t get it. There’s something going on we don’t know about.”

There had to be. Just like the critical piece they’d missed when they hadn’t put together that Maryse and Robert were coming after Magnus. He’d thought that piece was Gretel, but perhaps she was merely a distraction.

Magnus’ heartbeat kicked up as he sat back in his chair. “I have a feeling Susanna and the Angels’ owner will deal with Rufus Hastings swiftly and without mercy. So the question becomes, do we need to be worried about Raj?”

The players skated off the ice and the arena fell into an expectant quiet as the clock reset, counting down the minutes before the puck dropped.

Max glanced at the empty ice, frowning. “I think we’re about to find out.”

 

****

 

Alec gripped his mask between his glove and mitt, focusing on the clean lines of Clary’s artwork as his teammates swirled around him.

He didn’t need to stretch any more or fiddle with the fit of his gear. He didn’t need to discuss strategy or review the plays Luke had penned across the whiteboard earlier this afternoon.

He was ready.

A deep silence rippled through the room and Alec lifted his head, tracking his coach as he entered the locker room. Luke tread a well-worn path in front of them, the same one he’d walked for hundreds of games. But this game was different.

Luke set his hands on his hips as he stilled. “This is the ninety-ninth game we’ve played this season and we’re heading into the ninth month we’ve spent on this ice.” Luke paused to let those facts sink in, looking each of them in the eye in turn. “It’s an impressive achievement, gentlemen. But let all of that go now, because all that matters is _tonight_.

“There are no throw-away games here. No second chances. Every shift, every touch, every second counts. I want to see clean passes and consistent, unrelenting pressure. Attack from the blocker side and keep the puck off the defenders’ sticks when they’re in our zone. Control the puck and you will control this game.”

From the arena, a collective cry rose from the crowd as the pre-game presentation began. Music boomed through the speakers, vibrating the floor.

Alec’s heartbeat sped.

“Wayland. Lightwood,” Luke called out. He pivoted on his heel to face them. “You’ll lead us onto the ice every game until our season ends.”

“Yes, Coach,” they answered in unison.

Luke locked eyes with Alec and nodded. “Let’s go make the city proud.”

Alec stood, shaking out his arms and digging his skates into the floor, grounding himself. The reverberations from inside the arena rumbled up his legs and set his blood thrumming.

Jace tapped his face, just as every other Angel had tonight, and leaned in. “We were born for this, Alec. Born to do this together.”

Alec pulled on his mask, crashed it against Jace’s helmet, and Jace brought his gloves up, holding Alec in place.

Alec focused on Jace’s eyes and smiled. “Let’s go out there and win, brother.”

 

****

 

Magnus’ cell continued to light up even as the arena dropped into darkness, so Magnus flipped it face down. There was nothing as important as catching the second Alec’s skates hit the ice.

Next to him, Max sat on the edge of his chair, his elbows set on the high table, and his gaze fixated on the tunnel too.

“He can do this,” Magnus said.

The IE suite was packed, but only Max would be able to hear him with the volume of the music pumping out of the speakers.

“I know he can.” Max ran his fingers through his hair and sighed as he looked up at Magnus.  “But why does he have to?”

Magnus opened his mouth to respond, then realized what Max was really asking—why had Alec, a man who was good to his core, been born in a world where _one_ aspect of his existence overrode every other aspect that made him who he was? Alec hadn’t chosen to live a life of lies, manipulation, and secrets—it had been forced on him before he even had the choice.

_Because human beings are cruel_ , his cynicism wanted to answer. But that discounted how hard Alec had worked to reach this exact moment.

Out of adversity, came bravery. Change.

Magnus leaned on the table next to Max and looked him in the eye. “Because Alec will be the one to fix this piece of a broken system. And we…. We will follow his lead and do the same, wherever we can.”

Max inhaled sharply and nodded. “Okay.”

Magnus rested his hand on Max’s shoulder and stood just as the goal horn blared and Alec’s skates hit the ice. The volume in the arena made his ear drums rattle. Alec skated directly to the net as he always did, carving away the shiny surface in the crease and digging past that first superficial layer to create a scuffed terrain that would afford him better control. He crouched down, tapping the camera at the back of the net twice as he always did, then stood, shrugging his shoulders and knocking the handle of his stick against his mitt.

Images projected from the rafters flashed across the entire surface of the rink and into the stands, illuminating the Angels as they swirled around the ice, then casting them into shadow as the projections snapped into a veil of dark blue. The music dropped into silence, then exploded again at the same time the massive TV in the center of the arena flashed to life.

Magnus’ heart skipped a beat at the video of Alec’s first save of the season, sliding into footage of Jace’s tenth assist, Raphael’s thirtieth goal, the team’s one hundredth point, then an even faster splash of clips—bone-shaking hits, post-goal roars, blood dripping onto the ice, gloves thrown in anger, skates flashing in the arena lights as the Angels’ scored on screen over and over again—each image building on the next to showcase a team growing stronger as the stakes rose with every game they won, culminating with save after save after save as the announcers called each of Alec’s nine playoff shutouts, then the team crashing into each other over the announcer yelling, _The Angels are headed to the league championship finals for the first time in eighteen years!_

When the goal horn blared again and the lights came on to their full, blinding power, every Angels’ fan was on their feet and Magnus gripped Max’s shoulder tightly, his heart racing.

“Dear god,” Magnus breathed out.

Max barked out a laugh. “You can’t deny the power of home ice.”

Magnus slumped into the seat next to Max to catch his breath. The Predators had entered the rink at some point while Magnus had been talking to Max, and he tracked the players, searching for the ninety-one on the back of one player in an eddy of white and yellow jerseys.

“Someone decided to show up late for the party,” Max noted, tipping his head.

Magnus followed his line of sight to the tunnel leading to the Predator’s locker room, where Raj stood at the door, talking with his coach.

Magnus swallowed roughly and glanced up at the TVs, catching the moment when the camera focused in on Alec’s face—a mask of seemingly emotionless calculation as he surveyed the ice. But under Clary’s brilliant design and the laser-focus Alec wore like another piece of protective gear, Magnus recognized the deep emotional torrent roiling inside him.

Magnus shifted his gaze from the TVs to the rink below when Raj stepped onto the ice. Alec stood and crashed his stick into his mitt once, twice, then again.

Then he tapped the toe of his stick against the bottom of the post, the handle against the crossbar, the heel to the ice in front of him, the handle to the other side of the crossbar, then the toe against the opposite post in a series of movements he repeated three times before Magnus realized what he was seeing. It was as if Alec had drawn a protective bubble around himself and the net….

In the shape of an M.

Max chuckled lowly. “I think Alec just added you to his pre-game routine.”

Magnus’ vision blurred. He couldn’t be crying in response to something at a hockey game. Just couldn’t.

Except that he was.

He sniffed self-consciously and bit back a smile. “It appears so.”

Through the national anthem and ceremonial puck drop he couldn’t take his eyes off Alec or tamp down his own emotional hurricane, spinning steadily out of control. There was no more time for practices or inspirational speeches. No more superstitions to fulfill. Lying in bed with Alec this morning felt like another century, or another world, completely removed from this moment.

Magnus’ stomach swooped.

He could’ve sworn the puck hung in mid-air, suspended between Raphael and Raj glaring at each other at center ice, fans frozen with their arms raised and mouths wide on a silent cheer. Then he blinked and the swish of skates filled his ears, the players blurred across the ice, and the vibrations of an arena filled with twenty-thousand fans rippled over his skin and sunk into his bones.

Through the last three rounds, Magnus thought he’d already seen the best hockey had to offer, but those games couldn’t match the speed and precision of both teams on the ice tonight. The Angels may have been favored, but this wasn’t going to be an easy win.

Magnus watched for signs of aggression or a challenge with every shift Raj spent on the ice. As the minutes passed and none of that appeared, Magnus searched for any sign of recognition of his and Alec’s past in Raj’s play or demeanor. He’d seen more emotion, more grandstanding and vitriol, in the interactions between the Penguins’ center and Alec than he did Raj and Alec.

He studied Alec just as closely, seeking out any hints of hesitation or distraction, but Alec’s form was perfect. There would be no wild saves tonight because Alec wasn’t going to be caught off guard.

Maybe this series would be just as Alec had said—they each did their jobs and moved on.

Magnus sighed.

No matter how many minutes passed without an incident or how sure he was of Alec’s mindset, the churning in Magnus’ belly only increased. The volume of the crowd amplified with each hit, each attempt to score, and each save.

He consciously unclenched his hand and glanced up at the scoreboard. Less than a minute left in the first period, and neither team had been able to score. He grimaced.

They were all waiting, and the tension had to break somehow.

The Predators drove hard at the net again, slapping a shot off from behind the faceoff circle that Alec deflected with his blocker and sent back into play. The Preds closed in immediately, regaining possession.

Alec slammed the puck away again, this time on a rebound that pushed it almost to center ice, where Meliorn picked it up easily and swished around, bringing it into the Preds’ zone. The Preds’ forwards, still deep in the Angels’ zone as they’d attempted to score, had no chance of catching him, but their defenders took off with Jace in a burst of speed.

Meliorn sped toward the Preds’ net and their goalie skated out of the crease to meet him head-on. Meliorn drew his stick back to shoot, but at the last second flicked the puck across the ice to Jace who didn’t even slow as he flipped it into the net.

The arena erupted, but Magnus couldn’t celebrate the Angels scoring the first goal of the finals. Raphael and Raj stood nose-to-nose yelling at each other in the Angels’ zone, only feet away from Alec, reaching for his water bottle with his back to them. The refs had already started to close in, but Magnus watched with his heart in his throat as Bat whipped past them, heading straight for Raj.

“What happened?” Magnus asked, glancing at Max.

Max frowned. “I missed it because of the goal.”

The jumbotron replayed the goal as the crowd roared, so Magnus fixated on the TVs instead, waiting for the replay of what had happened between Raj and Raphael on the other side of the ice. But no matter how many times they replayed the sequence leading up to the goal, Magnus couldn’t catch what had caused their altercation.

“Don’t hit him,” Max gritted out.

Magnus’ gaze snapped back to the ice, where Bat sneered, a volley of unheard words spilling out of his mouth, and Raphael’s gloved hand on his chest pushing him away. “He won’t. Will he?”

“I don’t know. Alec said Bat can be a bit…unhinged. And if he knows about what went down—”

“He does,” Magnus cut in, his jaw clenched. “They all do. Not the…finer details obviously, but enough.”

With Bat already headed down the tunnel, the teams met at center ice for the restart of play. Raphael easily won the faceoff, but the first period ended before either team had a chance to make any kind of a play.

Or throw a punch.

Magnus heaved a sigh of relief. “This will give them all time to cool down.”

Max shrugged and got to his feet, heading for the buffet table. “Even though Bat didn’t take a shot at Raj now, he may later. Or someone else probably will. I’ve been waiting for it.”

Magnus watched Alec skate off the ice and tromp down the tunnel after his teammates. His skin prickled with dread.

“I know you need to keep your edge tonight,” Max said as he stepped up next to Magnus again, a martini in hand. “But one drink may help you not fall over it.”

Magnus accepted the offered glass and slammed it back.

 

****

 

Alec whipped off his mask as he entered the locker room, his frustration taking hold, but before he could lay into Bat, Bat held up his hands in protest. “I know. I know. I need to back the fuck off.”

Alec gritted his teeth and lifted his mask to point it at Bat and verbally reinforce the message, but Bat beat him to it again. “I shouldn’t do anything that’s going to get me ejected. I can play tough _and_ clean. I’m a professional and I need to act like it.”

“Good talk,” Alec huffed.

Bat gave him a toothless grin and sauntered to his cubby.

Alec set his mask on the shelf of his stall and thumped onto the bench. That wasn’t how he’d expected the first period to end at all.

He’d hoped that his teammates had trusted him when he’d said that they didn’t need to go after Raj because Alec could handle it. And up until those last minutes, he’d thought they did….

But maybe he’d permanently damaged that trust in the games when he _hadn’t_ held it together.

Alec’s stomach churned sickeningly as his frustration morphed into guilt.

Raj hadn’t come near him or said anything at that last denied goal, but the look Raj had given him…. Alec hadn’t been the only one to catch the snide haughtiness painted on his face.

In hockey, sometimes all it took was one wrong look to start a brawl.

He clenched his teeth and turned toward Raphael. “What did you say to him anyway?”

“It was all in Spanish,” Raphael answered blithely. He didn’t even look up from rewrapping the tape on his stick. “But I may have had a tone.”

“Santiago,” Alec groaned.

Raphael shrugged. “Talking won’t get me any penalty minutes until the refs learn a second language.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Isn’t it?” Pangborn challenged from across the room. “You forget that we’ve played this team before. We’ve studied the players and we know Bhandari’s usual MO—he’s a fucking pest.”

“A fucking pest who plays dirty and knows how to score,” Jace pointed out as he sat down next to Alec.

Alec glared at him.

“Raphael was right to take him on,” Jace said with a shake of his head. “If you let that one offense slide, then taunts come next, then pushing at the boundaries of your crease, and maybe even crashing into it—and you— ‘accidentally.’”

“I can handle it,” Alec snapped. “I’m fine.”

The locker room fell into tense silence.

Alec winced.

Then Pangborn cackled, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Fuck yeah, you are, Lightwood. We’re not questioning that. You’re like a fucking Terminator out there tonight. Like your body is made up of this futuristic metal shit that contorts in all these impossible ways and deflects anything that dares to come close.” He chuckled and shook his head. “The only way they’re getting through is by storming the net and risking the goal being called back for interference.”

Alec smothered a smile.

He was surrounded by idiots. Idiots who had his back just as much as he had theirs. Who trusted him implicitly. And he was their idiot captain, because he’d doubted that.

“I don’t know how they’d do even that,” Alec replied honestly. He swiped the sweat off his forehead and grabbed his water bottle. “They’re not getting _any_ quality shots off because this, from the first line to the fourth, is the best defense we’ve played all season—”

Alec froze with his water bottle halfway to his mouth and surveyed the faces of all his teammates, realization sinking in. He glanced in the direction of their coach. Luke lingered at the back of the room, talking to one of the assistant coaches, but his attention flickered to Alec when he fell silent.

Alec swallowed reflexively. He’d been so careful about what he’d said and how he’d reacted when Gretel and Rufus had come after him, but the connection had been made, nonetheless.

They knew he and Raj had been involved with each other.

“Fuck,” Alec swore. “You’re all playing this way because you know.”

He couldn’t look away from the discomfort painted on his teammate’s faces. This wasn’t _anything_ like him coming out to them. The same guilt and regret coursing through his veins was reflected in clenched jaws and fidgeting hands. They all knew that what Gretel had done was a violation to an egregious degree, and they were just as sick about it as Alec was.

Pangborn flexed his jaw and leaned forward. “We don’t know what happened between you and Bhandari. Not really. But what we do know is that you are the first set of eyes we rely on and our last line of defense. Number ninety-one may have a bigger target on his back because he and his kin decided to fuck with one of our own tonight, but they _all_ have a target because we want to win. It’s that simple.”

“There’s nothing that unites like a common enemy,” Meliorn stated. His calm gaze slipped to Alec. “You’re not letting them through—any of them—and neither are we.”

“It’s our job, it’s not personal.” Bosch shrugged. “Sort of.”

“We’re following your lead, Alec,” Pangborn insisted. “And so far, your level of play is telling us that Bhandari isn’t an issue for you, so he isn’t for us. But we’re not going to ease up on him either. We’re going to treat him just as roughly as we would any other high-scorer. We’re playing to _win_. It really is that simple.”

_Fuck_. Magnus had told him it was okay to be conflicted, but this was a whole other level of discord. He felt ill that he’d been a part of outing Raj—even tangentially, and even if it was more speculation than fact at this point for his teammates. And yet, his heart surged with pride from their unshakable support of him and their conscious decision to bring the focus back to the game, and the game solely.

“Okay,” Alec replied quietly, then repeated his agreement with more force as he took all that in.  He met each of their eyes. “Then let’s do exactly that.”

Acting as if he hadn’t been listening the whole time, Luke strode into the middle of the room. “Let’s talk power plays, gentlemen.”

Everyone’s focus slid to their coach, including Alec’s. If they really were going to win tonight, then, just like his teammates, all his attention would be on the game. Meliorn took the lead on strategy, then Bergeron and Bosch—their best penalty killers—honed in on how to best shut down the offense, all while Luke scrawled plays on his tablet and barked out adjustments.

There was nothing Luke or any of his teammates were saying that he hadn’t heard in some form or another over the last week, and yet all of it seemed fresh when everything else besides the game was stripped away.

He really could do this.

He wasn’t stuffing his emotions down—fighting with himself to keep them under control—he was living with their existence and heightening his strengths—perseverance, dedication, and patience—just like focusing in on the puck in the midst of the otherwise overstimulating stimuli from the glaring lights and raucous fans of the arena.

He’d being doing exactly that for almost twenty years.

Luke glanced at his watch and turned to Alec. “Get ready for the second, Lightwood.”

Alec picked up his mask and exited the locker room to warm up his muscles again in the tunnel before the second period. Caleb Thomas stood next to the stick rack, sorting through his stash, and Alec nodded before moving into the stretches he did between periods.

“The new design on your pads is wicked, Lightwood,” Caleb said. “The coloring makes it nearly impossible to tell how much space there is in your five-hole.”

Alec had modified his stance over the years to minimize his weak spots, but because of his height and his long legs, his five hole would always be a weakness when he was facing the fastest players.

He looked at Caleb. “No shit?”

“Yeah, if I was taking shots at you, I’d hesitate because I wouldn’t know how much room I had to work with.”

Alec grinned. “Perfect.”

“You can thank Lydia and Coach for that,” Jace noted as he stepped past. “They worked with Bauer on the technical aspects to help Clary finalize the design.”

“You’re welcome,” Luke said from his spot outside the locker room. “Those pads would’ve pissed me the fuck off as a player.”

Alec chuckled and shook his head. The new design made him feel even more powerful now. He settled into one last stretch as the players started filtering into the hallway, then with a stick tap from Jace, he led his teammates back onto the ice without a beat of hesitation.

The break had kept tensions from rising further, but it hadn’t diminished either team’s intensity. The Preds’ goalie bucked tradition, breaking almost every fundamental goaltending tenet, and he did it with unbridled success. That Alec’s style adhered to the basics as his foundation didn’t favor his team. The Angels had practiced all year scoring against him—a goalie who was much more traditional.

But the wildness of the Preds’ goalie’s style took more effort and expended more energy. Under a relentless barrage of shots on goal from the Angels, and halfway through the second, Alec picked up the signs of their goalie flagging.

When play stopped for an offside, Alec waved over Meliorn and Jace. “Keep going at him. You’re breaking him down.”

On his side of the ice, the Preds were trying to do the same to him. Just as Pangborn had predicted, the Predators fought harder to get close to the net. No matter how much they tried to obscure his sight lines, Alec had shut down every possibility of shots from the blue line to the faceoff circles, so they began an unrelenting push to the goal. They were straying closer toward interference, but Alec didn’t bother to engage the refs.

If they were going to get more aggressive, then so would he.

The Preds raced down the ice with the Angels’ D-men keeping pace and pressing into them. Alec followed the trajectory of the puck as the Preds’ winger flawlessly slid it across to the other winger to bring it over the blue line.

Play swiftly descended deep into the attack zone and Alec used his blocker, stick, and mitt to reinforce the boundaries of the crease. When a Preds’ defenseman doubled back, unable to find a shot, Alec poked his stick out, sending the puck careening out of the player’s control. Bergeron dashed after it, fighting for possession and crashing Raj into the boards. The puck skipped loose and another Pred’s defenseman flew toward Alec, slamming the puck toward the net. Alec dropped, deflecting the shot and sending it skittering off to his left, but the player who’d attempted to score crashed into him, throwing him off balance.

Alec shoved him away and tried to rally from the hit, sliding left where Raj had picked up the puck and already had his stick whipped back. He had a perfect shot, dead-on, with no time for Alec to tighten his stance and square up fast enough to cover the net, but Raj hesitated—just long enough for Alec to think that maybe he had a chance of resetting—then Raj flicked the puck to his winger, who deftly swished it into the net just above Alec’s shoulder.

The lamp lit up behind him, and Alec was barely back on his feet before Luke was calling for a challenge.

“There’s no way that will stand,” Bosch said as he tapped his stick against Alec’s pads.

Alec winced, heaved in enough breath to fill his lungs again, and grabbed his water bottle. He wasn’t even thinking about the goal, he was thinking of the second before that.

Raj hadn’t taken the shot when he could have— _should have_. He’d passed off responsibility. Chosen not to engage Alec when that was his job.

The Preds’ player’s hit to him just before the goal was so clearly interference that maybe Raj had known it would be called back anyway, or maybe the new design on his pads had thrown Raj off. But something nagged at the recesses of his memory….

A feeling of relief, untethered to anything in the present.

“What?!” Bosch yelled, and a chorus of boos rumbled through the arena.

Alec glanced up at the scoreboard, his stomach sinking with the sight of the goal under Nashville’s side of the board.

“If that wasn’t goalie interference, then what the fuck is?” Bosch bellowed at the refs.

Alec shook off the bad call and centered himself in the net again. The score stood at one to one, with just less than half the game left to go. He wouldn’t be adding a game to his shutout record, and Raj had earned a point off that goal for the assist. There was nothing he could do about any of that.

But that feeling of relief clinging to him….

Now he remembered where it came from.

Raj skated past Alec, his stick gripped in both gloves and his lips drawn into a thin line.

Alec met his eyes and didn’t look away.

 

****

 

Magnus tracked Alec’s movements in the crease, appreciating Alec’s inherent power on full display. He looked completely in control of his territory even after the score.

Magnus exhaled a sigh of relief.

“There’s an excessively cliché metaphor somewhere in this,” he said to Max.

Max hummed thoughtfully. “That bad things happen to good people? When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade? Or….”—Max smirked and glanced at Magnus—“that you’re always getting fucked by the man?”

Magnus struggled not to spit out his drink.

“I’m sorry,” Max choked out around a belly laugh. “That one was over the line.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“I’m really not.”

Magnus bit back a smile and lifted his glass. “A few more of these and I may not care what’s happening on the ice at all.”

“A few more of those and you’ll be gearing up to station yourself in front of Alec for the rest of the game.”

Magnus rested an elbow on the table, spinning his insignia ring. Play was just as fast, just as intense, as it had been since the beginning of the game. But he was starting to see cracks in the Predators’ unity, while the Angels skated cohesively. Completely in sync. “The score may be tied, but I’m not worried.”

Max arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been downing martinis behind my back, haven’t you?”

“No,” Magnus answered seriously. “Admittedly, they have helped, but that’s not why I’m not worried anymore. Something happened with that goal.”

“Yeah, it did!” Max erupted. “We got fucked! And not in a fun way _at fucking all_.”

Yes, they had. But that didn’t matter—as Max had stated so eloquently—at fucking all. Magnus was sure of that now.

“Alec had a…lightbulb moment,” he stated with a flourish of his hand. “For lack of a less derivative metaphor. He was confident in his play before, but he’s let everything else fall away since that goal. And the entire team will follow suit, just as they have all night. They _will_ win this game.”

Max stared out at the rink as if he was trying to see what Magnus was, then he huffed and glared at Magnus. “I’m offended.”

Magnus scrunched his brow in confusion. “What?”

“You and Alec didn’t even invite me to your wedding.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Max—”

“Shut up. You two are so married. Hashtagged, trademarked, and everything. _So_ married.”

Magnus smirked and leaned in closer to Max. “I don’t know what caused Alec’s lightbulb moment, obviously, but I have a feeling it has something to do”—he flicked one nail polish-tipped finger toward the ice—“with that.”

The game had paused for a TV time out and Alec stood next to the home bench, talking to the Angels’ backup goalie and with his back to the ice. On the other side of the rink, Raj was being escorted to the penalty box, his mouth still running and Bat skating away, laughing and completely dismissing whatever Raj was saying with a flippant wave of his hand.

“With Raj?” Max asked. “No shit.”

Magnus shook his head. “Yes, but no. In the beginning of the game, Alec was…intently focused on where Raj was on the ice at any given moment, and his teammates were the same—leading to the near altercation at the end of the first. Now, Alec isn’t paying him any heed and Bat, one of their most easily baited players, isn’t either. They’re treating him like any other player from an opposing team. And that goal was the turning point.”

Max tapped his beer bottle on the table. “A lightbulb moment, huh?”

“Of the LED variety, not incandescent,” Magnus confirmed. “A blindingly illuminating moment.”

“Well, let’s see what they can do with this power play then.”

The Angels didn’t score on that power play, and it didn’t look they were going to score on the one after that in the middle of the third period, when Raj ended up back in the box with one of the other Preds’ players and an Angel.

But Magnus wasn’t worried, and apparently, neither was Max.

He cackled as he looked up at the TV screens and pointed. “Oh my god. Bosch just shouted to Raj to ‘go back on waivers.’”

Magnus narrowed his eyes at Max.

“Because all of Raj’s other teams traded him or waived their rights to him because he was so problematic?” Max scoffed and shook his head. “And you call yourself a sports agent.”

Magnus sniffed. “And you wonder why you weren’t invited to the wedding.”

Max clutched his hands over his heart. “Harsh, dude.”

Magnus smirked and leaned back in his chair.

With the one-man advantage, the Angels’ drove even harder at the Predators’ goalie. They’d been systematically breaking down his defenses over the last two periods, making him work for every save. With seconds left before the balance on the ice shifted to full strength on both sides, it still looked as if the Angels wouldn’t be able to capitalize, especially when Raphael tipped to the side precariously, losing the edge on his skate. As he fell toward the ice, he maintained control of the puck, reaching out to send it sliding toward the net. The Preds’ goalie dropped to his knees and squared his body to Raphael’s, closing off any possibility of a goal.

Until the lamp lit up behind the net.

Magnus jumped to his feet with twenty-thousand other people as the goal horn blared. It was rare that Magnus saw Raphael with a genuine smile on his face, but the image flashing across the jumbotron couldn’t be denied.

“You asshole,” Magnus swore as he caught sight of the graphic overlaying the celebration on the ice.

That had been Raphael’s fiftieth goal this season.

In his first full season as a pro, Raphael had already joined an elite club of players. Not just elite, the elitist of the elite.

Damn Raphael. He’d gone into the game tonight knowing full well he had the chance to hit a major career milestone, and he’d likely told no one—except for maybe Ragnor.

As Raphael skated down the home bench knocking his glove against those outstretched over the boards, Magnus picked up his cell and typed out a message to Ragnor— _Are you watching this?_

_Raphael told me not to, so of course I am_

Magnus snickered. _I’ll ensure you, Cat, and I have seats together on the flight to Nashville_

The middle finger emoji popped through on his screen.

_Excellent. I’ll book us in first class_ , he replied.

_Your lack of boundaries is astounding._ There was a pause, then, _I can’t imagine not being there if they win the cup. Thank you, my friend_

On the ice, Alec had skated out of his crease and he had his glove around the back of Raphael’s neck. Raphael shoved him away with a smirk, tapping Alec on the pads with his stick before he skated back to the bench.

Max ran his fingers through his hair and looked to Magnus, his eyes wide. “Holy shit. They’re really going to do this, aren’t they?”

Magnus slapped Max’s back and grinned. “They are.”

The Angels weren’t just going to win tonight.

They were going to win it all.

_****_

It was impossible for Alec to completely shut out the crowd noise as the minutes ticked down to the end of the game. So when the Preds’ pulled their goalie for a sixth man on the ice, Alec fed off their energy, crouched into his stance, and readied himself for the onslaught.

He wasn’t going to allow them to take this game into overtime.

Their extra man bounded over the boards, a defenseman with a brutal slapshot and an even deadlier snipe. A swift line change from the Angels’ brought Bergeron, Bosch, Pangborn, Hildreth, and Velasquez onto the ice in an exclusively defensive line that immediately bolstered Alec’s confidence.

The Preds pushed their advantage, attempting to hem the Angels in and slip the puck past. But Bergeron, Bosch, and Hildreth forced them back while Velasquez and Pangborn battled for possession. Alec slid across the crease, centering himself to the puck as it bounced from stick to stick, and anticipating where it would head next to circumvent the player stationed in front of the crease to screen his sight lines. His thighs burned, his back ached, and his knee throbbed under the pressure of holding his stance, but he kept his mitt up and ignored the sweat dripping down his face.

Unable to press in close, the Preds’ forwards dropped back toward the blue line, and the Angels’ defense held strong, fortifying his position. When a shot finally came, Alec saw the puck at nearly the same time as he heard it cracking off the Predators’ stick. Already he was pushing his blocker forward and to the right, ricocheting it back into play, where a winger picked it up and drew it back outside the faceoff circles again, waiting to strike.

Alec gritted his teeth.

If they were waiting for an opening, for him to break, then they’d be waiting long past the final buzzer.

Two of their forwards passed the puck back and forth with a deceptively lulling swishing of skates. Alec didn’t stop tracking and didn’t drop his guard. He didn’t need to check the clock to know that time was dwindling down. Their sixth man skated on the fringes of the seemingly lazy passes. Alec pressed up against the Predator in front of him, inching farther outside the net and that one movement propelled them into action. The sixth man cut across the ice in front of the crease, and Alec lost sight of the puck in the split second it took for the forward to execute a clean pass through the Angels’ defenders and directly onto the tape of their attacker, who immediately redirected it toward the net.

Alec crashed his stick against the puck and sent it careening through a tangle of sticks, limbs, and torsos, then past center ice. The volume in the arena exponentially increased as the puck slid, completely untouched and unchallenged, into the empty net on the other side of the ice just as the final buzzer sounded.

Alec surged out of the crease and into the arms of the best defenders he’d ever played with. The home bench cleared and his teammates lined up to crash their helmets against his. Alec looked each of them in the eye then flipped his mask up and took a moment to actually look around. To lift his eyes to the stands and take in the sea of Angels’ fans decked out in the deep blue of home jerseys. A color that spoke of tradition and hinted at royalty. Of the power of a glacier and of a flame that burned hotter than any other.

One goal to three.

They’d taken the first game of the championship finals.

Before it felt like he’d inhaled a full breath, he was out of his gear, out of the showers, and in the locker room surrounded by reporters with cameras, phones, and mics recording his every word. He knew he wouldn’t remember what he’d said, but he’d never forget the feeling of sheer elation mixed with complete and utter exhaustion as he took in every smile and laugh in the locker room.

When the press had finally moved on to await Luke’s formal post-game media conference, Alec swiped a towel over his hair, tossed it into the laundry bin…. And finally took a deep, cleansing breath.

His heart was still racing when he reached into his stall and pulled his bracelet out, securing it on his wrist. His fingertips closed around the edges of his cell, pushed to the back of his bag, and Alec ignored every notification so he could send a text off to Magnus— _Come down here as soon as you can_

Alec draped the ice pack Kadir had left him over his knee and looked at Jace. “So, that just happened.”

Jace shook his head and a wide grin spread across his face. “Fucking right, it did.”

A hand clamped onto his shoulder and Alec peered up at Luke. “Happy, Coach?”

“It was a relatively successful start to the series.” Luke grinned and raised an eyebrow. “But we still have practice tomorrow.”

Alec took in a deep breath and chuckled. “I’ll be there.”

“Now,” Luke continued. “Alec, I’m sparing you the press room tonight since you did the post-game, but I need the rest of the first line to come with me. Apparently, the media has some questions they want you to answer as a group.”

“That sounds ominous,” Meliorn replied.

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “Get ready to see your faces on some t-shirts. The media has dubbed you The Filthy Five.”

Raphael scoffed. “That’s uncalled for.”

Luke smirked. “Finish getting dressed and I’ll meet you outside the press room.”

After the first line had taken off, Alec drifted out into the hallway where the rest of his teammates chatted with each other or the partners and kids who had come down to congratulate them. Almost immediately, he was engulfed on all sides by Izzy, Clary, and Simon, then seconds later by Max. Alec grinned at their full-on love assault.

“Where’s Magnus?” he asked Max.

“He had to take a call. Said he’d be down in a few minutes.”

Alec leaned against the doorway to the locker room as they talked around and over each other, discussing their favorite parts of the game, but Alec barely heard a word they said. He was scanning the faces of each person who turned the corner from the elevator bank.

He was waiting for Magnus, yet he wasn’t prepared for the racing of his heartbeat when Magnus strode into sight. He’d seen Magnus before the game, but he hadn’t really _seen_ him. Now, all his focus was on the military-style jacket that hung from Magnus’ broad shoulders, his hair slicked high, and the smile on his devastatingly red lips when he met Alec’s eyes.

Alec pushed off the door and met him halfway. “Hey.”

Magnus peered up at him and set his hand on Alec’s chest, sliding the fabric of Alec’s sweatshirt between his fingers. “This is new.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh….” Alec smiled. He had to be blushing, had to be, but he couldn’t find the will to care. “It’s the new team sweatshirts. For the finals.”

“I look forward to stealing it from your side of the closet after the finals are over.”

Alec wanted to wrap Magnus into his arms, needed to, but there was something he had to say before he did. He leaned in and looked Magnus in the eye. “Thank you for coming down before the game. It was exactly what I needed.” He reached out and tugged at Magnus’ cuff. “ _You_ were exactly what I needed.”

Magnus’ shoulders lifted on a deep inhale. “I wasn’t sure I was. Not at first. But you dominated the rink from the second your skates hit the ice.”

“Because of _you_.”

Magnus shook his head. “No. That was all you, Alexander. And I had no doubt you could do it, but….” His brow furrowed as he looked up at Alec. “What happened in the second period? After that goal?”

Alec scratched at his beard, then ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t surprised that Magnus had picked up on the complete shift to his mindset.

Magnus saw him.

He inched closer and leaned his shoulder on the wall so he could look Magnus directly in the eye. “I had this…flash of memory from the first game Raj and I played against each other after I was ejected for going off on him. I remembered that the one time it had come down to me against him, he hadn’t taken the shot. And afterwards, I felt this surge of _relief_ because he didn’t have power over me anymore. He’d frozen and I hadn’t.” Alec shrugged. “I guess that realization faded over the years. But everything just kind of clicked into place when I remembered that game then realized—” Alec’s throat tightened and he pushed off the wall, taking Magnus’ hand in his. “No matter how the game ended tonight, I would be going home with you.”

Magnus entwined his fingers with Alec and smiled up at him. “You won.”

In every way possible he had. “We won.”

“I’m so proud of you, Alexander.”

Then Magnus placed a soft kiss on his lips as if they were in their home and not in the arena hallway surrounded by hockey players, their families, and coaching staff. A kiss like every other wife or girlfriend had given to one of his teammates as they’d met up after the game. A simple kiss of intimate recognition.

It was the first time Magnus had publicly initiated the same level of affection he’d always shown Alec in private.

He gripped Magnus’ arms and held him there, his stomach fluttering with...giddiness? Fuck, there was no other word for it but lovestruck giddiness. He tipped his forehead against Magnus’ and breathed him in.

“And now I’m a bit turned on,” Magnus rasped.

Alec chuckled. “Only a bit?”

“Epically, my fearsome finisher.”

“We’ll see if I have enough energy to live up to that title when we get home.” Alec slid his hands down Magnus’ arms and smirked as he backed away. “You still have that belly chain on, right?”

Magnus’ tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Alec smirked, then lifted his eyes—

He froze.

Raj stood at the end of the hallway, his face blank as he caught eyes with Alec.

Alec swallowed hard and set his hand on Magnus’ bicep, going with his instincts. “Give me a minute.”

Magnus brow creased and he swiveled on his heel. “Oh.”

Yeah, that about summed it up.

“Lightwood?” Bosch called out.

He waved Bosch away. “It’s fine.”

Before he could take a step forward, Luke and the first line emerged from the press room. Jace lost a step when he caught sight of Raj, and Luke placed a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded to Raj. “Good game, Bhandari.”

Raj opened his mouth to respond, snapping it closed when Gretel appeared at his side and slid a hand around his waist.

Her callous gaze rolled over everyone, then focused on Magnus.

Alec held onto him tighter. She could come after him all day, but he wouldn’t allow her to go after Magnus like his mom had.

“Isn’t this…cozy?” she observed.

Luke ignored her presence completely. He nodded to the players still congregated in the hallway. “You’re all free to go, gentlemen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Or,” Gretel said. “You can stay and listen to this next press conference.”

Alec looked to Raj again and furrowed his brow. Raj stood with the muscles of his jaw working, and the usual haughty tip to his chin, but he wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes—even his fiancée’s.

“And what would we hear if we did?” Magnus questioned.

Gretel just smiled.

“This is bullshit, Alec,” Jace gritted out. “We’re not leaving here without you and Magnus.” He looked to the other players, none making a move to leave. “We come into the arena together and we leave together.”

“We should just go,” Alec said as he peered down at Magnus. “But this…. Raj…. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Magnus nodded. “I know. But I don’t know what it is we’re missing.”

“I don’t either.”

“Maybe Isabelle and I should stay here to listen in. Just in case.”

Just in case they decided to out him somehow to the media.

Alec shook his head. “And then what? I’m not going to deny I’m gay or deny my relationship with you. If they want to out me, then….” He shrugged.

“Oh, Alexander.”

 Alec inhaled sharply. As he took in the wonder and adoration in Magnus’ eyes, all of the pressure to come out in a big, public spectacle faded away. Everyone he cared about already knew he was gay and he wouldn’t step back into the closet.

Just as Izzy had said, their relationship was powerful. Some people would view it with disdain, but the people they cared about didn’t. His teammates, coach, friends and family standing behind them was all the proof he needed. Making a show of coming out didn’t mean nearly as much as simply living the life he’d always wanted to.

A life with Magnus.

“Let’s just go,” Alec said.

“And if she’s not bluffing?”

“Look around you. Even if they do go to the media, there’s nothing they can take away from us.”

He anticipated the next question on Magnus’ lips— _Are you sure?_ Which really meant— _Are you sure I’m worth it?_

Magnus had been asking the same question, in different ways, for months now, and Alec’s answer still hadn’t changed. But he had to wonder if Magnus would ever believe Alec’s answer wasn’t going to change.

He prepared to answer that question as he always did, but Magnus tipped his head and rested his hand on Alec’s chest. “We already won, Alexander.”

“We did,” Alec breathed out. He clasped his hand in Magnus’ and tugged gently, even though Magnus didn’t need to be coaxed at all. “Come on. Take me home.”

 

****

 

Awareness came to Magnus one caress at a time.

Calloused fingertips tracing a line up his arm, over his shoulder and grazing across his chest. Then the feather-light brush of Alec’s lips on his ribs.

Magnus couldn’t resist the pull to open his eyes anymore, only to find Alec gazing down at him.

He smiled. “Are you testing out a new morning ritual?”

“I figured this would be a much better way for you to wake up.”

“I’m not complaining, I’m simply not accustomed to seeing those gorgeous eyes when I first wake up.”

“I couldn’t sleep anymore. I just couldn’t—”

Magnus furrowed his brow. Last night’s events came rushing back to him, and his heart started to pound. “What? Did something happen?”

“No. We’re fine. I just couldn’t wait for you to wake up when I realized….” Alec smiled down at him. “It isn’t here yet, but I was thinking about the time difference when you call Siti, and I realized it’s already Wednesday in some parts of Indonesia.”

Magnus struggled to catch up to Alec’s thought process, and Alec’s roaming hands weren’t doing him any favors. Then it clicked. “Wednesday. June first.”

“Happy Pride Month, Magnus.”

Magnus’ heart flipped at the sheer joy in Alec’s voice. He reached up and teased his fingers through Alec’s beard. “Happy Pride Month, Alexander.”

Alec kissed his wrist, then snuggled into Magnus’ side, leaning on his elbow and placing his hand on Magnus’ stomach. “This is going to be the first June that I’m out. Almost.”

“Regardless of whether or not someone is out, or somewhere along that spectrum in their own journey, this month belongs to everyone who doesn’t match up to the heteronormative standards your brother so gleefully challenges.”

Alec scoffed. “He probably already has a truckload of t-shirts designed.”

“Or maybe all that time he’s spending in his workshop is really building a float for the Pride parade. Or networking to figure out how he could be the grand marshal of it.”

“It’s possible he’d have to fight Izzy for that spot.”

Magnus chuckled.

“Doesn’t matter where I am publicly when the time for New York’s parade comes, I want to go with you.”

Magnus’ heart hammered against his chest with all the implications contained in that one brief sentence. They had more than three weeks before the parade, but Magnus’ answer wasn’t contingent on any external forces. “I’d love that.”

Alec smiled. “Thank you.”

“How did you sleep?”

“I usually sleep well the night after a win, but I was completely out of it last night. Did you get up?”

“No, I actually slept too.”

“Good.” Alec leaned over and kissed him. “Your cell pinged a few times and you didn’t even twitch a muscle. I was hoping that meant you were really sleeping.”

“Just how long were you watching me?”

“I don’t know. A while.” Alec tucked his face into Magnus’ chest. “Is that weird?”

Magnus grinned as he scratched his fingers through Alec’s hair. “I suppose it’s only fair, since I do it almost every morning.”

“I finally get why you wake up as early as you do.”

Watching Alec sleep peacefully was a distinct benefit to his insomnia. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Well, I did wake up next to you,” Alec said with all seriousness. “But I’m usually in a good mood when we win.”

“Even with….” He hated to see Alec’s smile diminish, but he had to ask. “Even with everything with Raj, Gretel, and Rufus last night?”

“Raj’s press conference was completely normal. Whatever they were trying to do doesn’t matter anyway. Check your email.”

“Work or personal?”

“Work. It’s an official communication.”

Magnus picked up his cell from the nightstand and ignored every other notification cascading down his screen, tapping over to his IE account. He settled his other hand on Alec’s back, then read through the email once, and again, before looking up at Alec. “Rufus resigned.”

Alec nodded. “I texted Lydia to see what she knew. Apparently, the owner demanded his immediate resignation before the game had even ended, but all they’re saying in the press is that this was a planned exit, decided upon weeks ago.”

“But it wasn’t.”

Alec shook his head. “ _We_ know it wasn’t, but very few other people do. Lydia told me that Mr. Whitelaw said that the Angels’ organization, as a whole, stands behind me.”

“You deserve that level of loyalty, Alexander.”

Magnus leaned in for just one kiss, but ended up tossing his cell away so he could get both hands on smooth skin and pull Alec down on top of him.

Alec grinned against the kiss and languidly arched into Magnus. “You taking this somewhere?”

“I would _love_ to finish what I just started.” Dear god, he did. He drew back reluctantly. “But I have to go soon.”

Alec nodded, dipped his head down to place open-mouthed kisses along Magnus’ collarbone, then dragged himself off the bed.

Magnus immediately wanted to drag him back.

Alec smirked at Magnus like he knew exactly what Magnus was thinking. Regardless, he stood and pulled his boxer briefs on. “Why don’t I make breakfast while you jump in the shower?”

“Thank you, but nothing for me. Jocelyn said she’d order in for the two of us since I’ll be there most of the day.”

Alec headed for the kitchen and Magnus pried himself out of bed.

Jocelyn had told him to wear something that could be destroyed and yet was still comfortable. So Magnus slipped open his bottom drawers and rifled around. The last time he’d searched through here had been the morning after Alec had broken up with him, only weeks ago, and yet so far in the distance that none of the hurt bubbled forth anymore.

In honor of Pride month, he picked out a tee with a pink, purple, and blue gradient and a pair of jeans that he’d bought pre-distressed that now had paint splotches from the hours he’d spent painting this loft after he’d signed the lease. He resisted taunting Alec in the kitchen and headed for the bathroom to begin his morning—a process that went much faster without sharing the space with Alec, although not nearly as pleasurable.

The quiet also afforded him the time to remember why he was going to see Jocelyn in the first place. He’d continued to stuff his emotions down over the last few days, and it caused his insecurities to well up. So much so that when he stepped out of the bathroom and caught Alec’s apprising study, he shifted nervously.

Alec stepped up to him, threading his fingers through Magnus’ belt loops and pulling him in close. “I love these jeans. They’re so unlike your public persona and yet so like the man I know.”

“And how is that?”

“Fashionable and comforting. Soft, yet resilient.”

“Worn out?” Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Ancient?”

Alec shook his head. “Aged to perfection.”

Magnus rolled his eyes and started to pull away, but Alec held fast to him. Magnus paused, tipping his head in silent question.

“It’s just—” Pinkness tinged Alec’s cheeks as he bit at his lip. Then he was yanking Magnus against him again into a tight embrace. Alec’s arms circled around him, fingertips lifting the hem of his shirt to find skin. “Fuck. You look so good.”

“Do I?”

“You know you do.”

Actually, he didn’t. Not dressed this…ordinary. But he couldn’t deny the way Alec pressed his tongue against his teeth as he smiled, as if he was thinking of the taste of Magnus’ lips. That Alec’s eyes had dilated, black overtaking the shifting green. Alec skated his hands under Magnus’ shirt, up Magnus’ chest and ran his thumb over Magnus’ nipple.

Magnus couldn’t catch his breath. “Alec—”

Alec stroked his hands over Magnus’ chest and dug his fingertips into muscle. “When are you going to confess how much time you really spend in the gym? You don’t get these from sitting at a desk all day. I know you work out.”

His self-confidence firmly reinforced by Alec’s adoration, Magnus coyly smiled and let Alec touch wherever he wanted. “Perhaps I was merely sculpted by the goddesses themselves.”

“I think I just found religion.”

Magnus groaned. “That was awful, Alexander.”

Alec smirked. “Do we have time for worship?”

“Later.” Magnus placed his hands on Alec’s chest and regretfully pushed away. “I have to be at Jocelyn’s studio in thirty minutes.”

The pout on Alec’s lips was almost enough to make him consider whether sex would be just as therapeutic as actual therapy. Almost.

He swiped his wallet, keys, and cell off the counter and headed for the door before he changed his mind.

He’d barely taken two steps, then Alec was plastered to his back, arms wrapped around him and lips at Magnus’ cheek. “You know it’s not just that you look good, right? I’m attracted to all of you.”

Magnus bit back a smile. “I know.”

“I hope today helps. Call me if you need anything.”

Magnus sank into the warmth of Alec’s care, his words, and his touch.

He craned his neck back to place a kiss on Alec’s lips. “I’ll see you at home after practice.”

He untangled himself from Alec’s arms and sauntered into the hallway.

“Our home,” Alec called out as he leaned out the door. “‘Cause, you know, you asked me to move in with you.”

“Yes, Alexander. _Our_ home.”

Magnus couldn’t contain his smile for the walk to the studio Jocelyn shared with her business partner, but he also couldn’t contain the heaviness settling in his gut. He tromped up the steps into the walkup studio and knocked on the door swirled with vibrant colors.

“Hey, Magnus,” Jocelyn said as she swept it open and him into a hug. “I’m so glad you wanted to come by.”

Magnus relaxed into her arms. “Thank you for agreeing.”

“We’ll see what you think. No pressure.”

“So.” He pivoted around the studio, taking in the bohemian atmosphere, then faced Jocelyn with a clap of his hands. “How do we get started?”

“First of all, I want to be clear that this isn’t an actual session. I’m doing this as a friend, so this isn’t going to be like it would if you saw my partner. But I’ll walk you through one process we use and see if you’re interested in more.”

“I’m with you so far.”

“Now, choose your medium. Photography, metal, cloth, clay, acrylics….”

Magnus weighed each option. “I’ve always been fascinated by paints, but the most I’ve worked with them is adorning the walls of my loft.”

“You don’t need any experience to do this,” Jocelyn said as she set up two easels back-to-back and rested fresh canvases on them. “I’ll help you through the technical pieces if you want, but it’s really just paint to canvas and seeing what unfolds. There’s no right or wrong way.”

He stood back and watched Jocelyn squeeze acrylic paints onto palettes for both of them, then line up brushes. She gestured toward the blank canvas in front of him and took up position behind her own.

“Okay, Magnus. What’s the first image that pops into your head when I say ‘pain?’”

Magnus winced.

Jocelyn nodded and spun her hair into a loose bun. “Whatever that image is, paint it. You can paint that exact image, or slop color all over the canvas that approximates how you feel about that image. The end product isn’t as important as your intention.”

He picked up a brush hesitantly. “And what should my intention be?”

“Putting your pain into physical form.”

Magnus inhaled deeply. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

And exactly why he’d come here today.

So he began.

He swirled his brush through the paints and swiped on the midnight blue of nighttime sky and the thin black lines of a wooden home, charred by the deep red of flames. He dotted on grey smoke, blotting out distant stars. He cut together the earthen shades of the dirt, brush, and trees and the scene in front of him really began to take form.

Even as he brought life to the night his biological father had burned down his home and his stepfather had beaten him for an offense not his own, none of the panic he’d expected to experience bubbled to the surface. Maybe all he’d needed to do to feel better was get that scene out of his head.

He stepped back, surveyed the painting, and his breath caught in his lungs. He viewed the scene now just as he had then—from afar. And just like that night, next to the front door sat a water bucket that he didn’t remember painting at all.

Without warning, pain overwhelmed him. Pain in his arms and back, rippling over singed skin, raised welts, and a pain so much deeper, digging past his heart and into the very core of his humanity…. Magnus shivered, shuddered, and burned.

He struggled to breathe around the scent of smoke and the taste of ash. He touched his finger to the bucket, seeking out cool water just as he had that night, and his fingertip came back slick with crimson, black, and gray.

 He should have known to expect this.

A fire never set him off. Neither did an abandoned home, nor stories of child abuse. All of those tore at his heart and ignited his empathy, but they didn’t elicit overwhelming reactions to memories of his own past. Just like that water bucket, it was the unexpected that sent him reeling. The otherwise ordinary details that made his past experiences real—concrete and undeniably _his_ life.

“Let’s take a break and let these dry.”

Magnus jolted.

He’d forgotten where he was.

Jocelyn stood between their two canvases, wiping her hands clean on a paint spattered rag. Her voice was calm, her demeanor even more so, and her eyes kind.

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked.

He managed a shake of his head. Found his voice. “I don’t think I could stomach anything right now.”

“I’ll make some tea.” She gestured to a worn futon as she headed for the kitchenette. “You’re welcome to have a seat.”

Magnus raked his fingers over the stubble he hadn’t shaved away this morning and stumbled for the corner.

He grasped onto the details in Jocelyn’s studio, anchoring himself to the present—the soft cotton under his fingertips, the dust motes floating lazily in a beam of summer sun cascading through the window, and the discordant sounds of city outside the rough brick walls.

He was safe here.

He sank into the cushion and picked at a loose string dangling from the hem of his tee. He dreaded Jocelyn asking him about that painting—maybe even more so, inquiring about his reaction to it—so when she approached the futon with two steaming cups in hand, he couldn’t even meet her eyes.

Jocelyn handed one of the cups over and sat down next to him. “So I hear that you found out about Clary’s new relationship in an interesting way.”

A surprised, and genuine, laugh slipped past his lips. He sipped at his tea and the gentle warmth supplanted the burning ache in his bones.

“I did,” he said with a smile. “You said she tells you everything, but I wasn’t sure she’d tell you about them.”

“She knows I’d never object to her being loved by _more_ people. I may have wanted a normal life for my daughter, but I never lived one myself. More importantly, what is ‘normal,’ anyway?”

“Boring,” Magnus answered without hesitation. “And Clary has too much of a spark to ever be dull. But I suppose you knew that about her from an early age.”

Jocelyn sighed deeply. “I did.”

Magnus merely quirked an eyebrow at that sudden demeanor change and enigmatic response.

“Clary’s not very happy with me right now.” Jocelyn twisted on the futon so she was facing Magnus. “There were things I didn’t tell her that I should have. We’ll work through it.”

“About Luke Garroway?” he prompted.

If Jocelyn was surprised he knew of that connection, then she didn’t show it. “Yes. But also about her father and why I haven’t told her who he is.”

Magnus furrowed his brow. “I wasn’t aware that she doesn’t know who he is.”

“She thought she did, but I lied to her. I’m never going to tell her his real name, and she has to learn to be okay with that. I won’t apologize for keeping this secret from her.” Jocelyn’s jaw hardened, but it wasn’t solely defiance Magnus gleaned from her features, it was the fierce light of a mother willing to sacrifice anything for her child. “I understand it’s not easy for her, but I love her too much for her to live with knowledge that would only make her life worse.”

“Are you sure it would?”

“Absolutely sure,” Jocelyn answered. The underlying fear in her tone sent shivers down Magnus’ spine. Jocelyn gripped her cup tighter. “The problem was, I shouldn’t have lied to her in the first place, then kept my thought process and reasoning hidden from her. That was my mistake and one I have to own in order to rebuild her trust in me.”

Magnus sighed, then took another sip of his tea, forcing himself not to look at the painting across the room. If he’d never found out about his own biological father, then he wouldn’t have reached out to Siti when he had. But he also had no doubt that he would’ve reached out to her sooner rather than later—he wanted to introduce her to Alec. Knowing what he did now, he wouldn’t have chosen to learn his biological father was still alive though, let alone his identity. But that didn’t mean Clary felt the same. “Does she want to know who he is?”

“I don’t think she does anymore.”

“Then some secrets are better left buried,” Magnus assured her. “If you don’t think it would be overstepping, I could talk to her. We share a…commonality there.”

“That’s up to her, not me. There’s nothing I’ve told you that I haven’t said to her directly already.”

“What about you and Luke? Have you talked?”

“We were over a long time ago,” Jocelyn stated. “There were too many differences between us, too many secrets, and not enough communication. Maybe in another universe we would have worked out, but not this one.”

“It saddens me to think about all the ways Alec and I wouldn’t have ended up together. If we’d made even slightly different choices at multiple times over the last two months, we wouldn’t have made it to this point. It’s all still so new, but I….” Magnus swallowed roughly. “I don’t want to think about a life without him.”

He felt heat crawling up his cheeks, not just from that admission, but that Jocelyn had gently coaxed an answer like that out of him through sharing her own personal details first.

As a friend and not his therapist, he felt much safer turning the conversation back on her. “But you…. You’ve been single the entire time I’ve known you. Do you wish things had been different between you and Luke?”

Jocelyn secured a lock of red hair behind her ear and smiled. “Not everyone needs a romantic relationship in their life. I’m happy, Magnus.”

“That’s all that matters.”

“It is. Now. Are you ready to get back to work?”

Magnus set his cup down on the side table and admitted, “I don’t know if I can look at that painting again.”

“Then maybe the second part of the process will help. Would you like to continue?”

“Yes,” he answered around the lump in his throat. He was curious now. “Let’s.”

He followed her back to the easels and she picked up a wide, flat brush then slathered it in paint. “Take this and cover your canvas in white.”

“But then—”

“You can take a picture of your painting first,” she added. “But this is the second step.”

Magnus frowned at the painting and lifted his brush. He hesitated for a breath before he swiped the brush on a diagonal across the middle from corner to corner, whiting out one of the most painful moments of his life. His shoulders slumped with relief even as a fresh panic bubbled forth. He didn’t know what to do with that, but there was no turning back now.

So he continued forward, undeterred, just as he always did.

Jocelyn settled on the edge of the stool behind her. Since they’d started, she hadn’t strayed anywhere close to Magnus’ easel, and she didn’t now. His work was as unknown to her as her’s was to him. From what he could glean from her posture, she was just as unsettled as him as her own brush swept across her canvas.

He heard her take a deep breath, then, “And now, paint an image you associate with joy.”

One image filled Magnus’ head immediately. A memory of bright white blossoms on delicate green stalks. Of lush humidity and an anticipatory nervousness lighting every nerve in his body. A warm rush that whisked all his worry away as he relived that moment with Alec in the conservatory over and over again with each brushstroke.

The white paint hadn’t dried yet, so each swirl of color appeared to be infused with its own inner light. An unintentional interplay of the clarity of that memory and the hazy dreaminess of that night.

“Are you hungry now?”

Magnus jolted at the sound of Jocelyn’s voice. Again.

He’d lost all sense of time and place in this creation as well, but unlike his last painting, Magnus felt… at peace.

He set down his brush and smiled. “I’m famished.”

Jocelyn headed for the kitchenette, again, and Magnus thumped onto the futon, again, but this time when Jocelyn rejoined him, she let the peaceful silence linger until nearly all the plates were cleared.

“So when do we start the therapizing?” he asked when he was fully sated.

Jocelyn smirked. “Do you want to tell me about either one of your paintings?”

“No,” he replied honestly, and with a comfortable laugh. “I really don’t.”

“That’s fair. How about the process then? It’s a pretty obvious metaphor for how we handle our emotions.”

“Attempting to cover up the bad with the good, but understanding that the bottom layer never really disappears,” he said with a flourish of his hands. “I get it….”

“And?” Jocelyn pressed.

“And.” Magnus took a deep breath. “I hated the thought of covering up my work at first, but I felt myself easing as it disappeared and that…. That made me uneasy again.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I feel like maybe I should cover it all up. Not just because then I won’t have to deal with it, but—” Magnus grimaced as the reality settled in. It was just as obvious as the process itself. “Then I won’t bring anyone else down either.”

“Anyone else, or someone in particular?”

Magnus didn’t want to answer that.

Jocelyn nodded as if his silence was enough of an answer. She shifted toward him and stretched her arm out on the back of the futon, focusing on him. “Every one of us has layers upon layers, Magnus. Some overlapping, some bleeding through, and some so deeply buried that we want to deny they exist at all or gloss over them with something prettier and easier to manage. Admitting to others that you have those layers too opens yourself up to shared experiences. But no one—absolutely no one—is entitled to see them unless you want them to.”

“I default to no one seeing them,” he contended. “You, Cat, Ragnor, and Raphael are aware of pieces of my life, but none of you have the full picture. And Alec—”

He stopped himself before finishing that thought. He hadn’t thought of Alec at all while he was immersed in the panic of that first painting. He hadn’t thought about _anyone_ he trusted, not even Jocelyn, who’d been standing a few feet away. It was his trauma, yes. A memory and experience that belonged solely to him, and one he had to find a way to cope with. But….

He wasn’t alone anymore. So why had he walled that night off to everyone who could help him through the lingering after-effects?

No matter how he spun it, layers, walls, and distractions were all meant to keep people from fully seeing _him_.

Even Alec.

“Alec has upended all my protection mechanisms. I know I can trust him, and yet I’m still hesitant to let him see all the ugliness in my past…. A past that is very much part of the present.”

“You said that you don’t want to bring anyone down because of your own battles, and Alec, from all appearances, has much to celebrate in his life right now. Do you think that maybe you’ve kept your past from him because you think you’re protecting his happiness? Even if he’s willing to listen and still care for you?” She took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. “Even if he doesn’t need to be protected at all?”

Magnus winced.

_No_. That couldn’t be true.

Could it?

He’d said nearly the same thing to Alec’s teammates last night. Alec was strong. He could handle it, as could his friends. So was he protecting Alec and everyone else he loved, or protecting himself? Or was it a convoluted mix of the two that kept him from really opening up?

Magnus pushed off the futon, needing to move. “I have no idea how to begin unraveling that.”

“The usual view is that there are constant ebbs and flows to life,” Jocelyn started. She tracked his movements around the studio. “Which is true, but not in the way that our minds are attuned to process. What do you think of when I say ‘ebbs and flows?’”

“Water on a shoreline, or waves in the ocean,” he said with a flick of his hands.

Jocelyn nodded. “Where the water is either up or down, or in or out, but never all of those at the same time, right?”

He stuttered to a stop. “Well, yes.”

“And that is one of our problems as human beings,” Jocelyn asserted. “We like dichotomies because they’re simpler to classify—good and evil, happiness and sadness. However, the reality of life is that in our lowest moments we can have flashes of hope and joy. And we can experience our highest moments even when we’re carrying sadness or, even more intense, despair.”

Magnus’ shoulders slumped as realization washed over him.

The last few days had been a perfect example of that. Carrying the dread low in his belly as he’d considered the effects of helping Siti, even as Alec agreed to move in with him. The high of a win, tempered by an undercurrent of anger and fear. Jocelyn was right. All of those things could, and did, coexist, and fighting that reality only led to unrealistic expectations and disappointment.

Individually he had daily battlefields to cross, as did Alec, but neither of them had to traverse that topography alone.

Neither his nor Alec’s pasts would ever really remain in the past, and the scars they carried would never truly be wiped away, but there was so much more happiness that laid ahead of them. Infinite possibilities for moments of joy and unknown obstacles yet to face. Never just one wave or two, but a whole ocean of ebbs and flows to explore, survive, and bask in the rare moments of relative calm.

It all seemed so obvious now.

Magnus inhaled deeply. He reached for a ball of clay sitting on a shelf and began to knead it. The clay warmed in his fingers as he warmed to that thought. “I don’t know why I’ve never thought of life that way.”

“Because we’re not raised to,” she said with a shrug. “But now you can.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Jocelyn.”

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course.”

She fixed her kind gaze on him. “Do you think you’re depressed?”

“Are you asking as a friend or as a therapist?”

“Another dichotomy, Magnus?” she challenged.

Magnus huffed softly.

“I’m both of those at all times,” she replied. “That’s why it wouldn’t be ethical for me to take you on as a client. But right now, I’m asking as a fellow human being—a person with her own layers of mistakes and regrets that I gloss over with those I don’t trust. I’m concerned.”

“Am I clinically depressed?” He gave that question the serious consideration it deserved. “No. I’ve been there before, and this feels different.”

“If you find you need more help—something other than what we offer here—let me or someone else who you trust know. I won’t be offended. You have to follow the path that’s best for you.”

“I promise that I will.”

“And you’ve never broken a promise to me.”

“I don’t intend to start now.” He tossed the ball of clay into the air and caught it before he looked at her again. “I’d like to come to a session with your partner if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is.”

He held out the smooth orb in his hand. “And maybe try out the clay next time.”

She smiled. “You can do that too.”

“Does my choice of medium mean anything about my mental state?”

“No. But it gives hints to how you interact with your world. That’s for you to explore and test out.”

He pondered that and wandered back over to the easels. With his new perspective, the painting he’d completed took on a whole new, vibrant light. While Jocelyn began cleaning up their supplies, he surveyed the orchids and, more intently, the spots where the bleakness below hadn’t been fully covered.

Somewhere beneath the delicate petals, that water bucket still existed, but its presence—and the knowledge that there would be many more metaphorical water buckets throughout his lifetime—didn’t frighten him as much anymore.

He was proud of the end product today, both artistically and emotionally.

“So. Do I take this with me?”

“That’s up to you too. We have some clients who want to keep everything themselves, others who want to burn, shred or destroy every piece, and others who have us store the pieces for them—a therapist’s case file of sorts. But one that only you have access to.”

“Keep this one for now then.”

Magnus resettled the lump of clay on the shelf and fished his cell out of his pocket. He tapped first on the text notification from Alec, received only moments ago— _How was it?_

_It was good_ , he responded. _I don’t think I’m ready to talk about all the details quite yet. Soon though_

The reply from Alec was immediate. _What do you need from me?_

He didn’t have to think about that answer at all. _A hug. A smile. Maybe finishing what I started this morning_

_I’m up for all of that ;)_

Magnus chuckled. _Are you headed home soon?_

_Everyone else was gone hours ago and Jace is taking off now, but I don’t want to leave yet. I’m still doing drills, but I’m more just… Breathing in the ice I guess?_

That sounded lovely. _I’m going to head home and get cleaned up, then how about I come by the arena and keep you company?_

_I’ll let security know you’re coming by. I’m in the practice rink_

_I’ll text you when I’m on my way_

_See you soon_

“Alec has been doing his own form of art therapy,” Jocelyn called out from across the room.

Magnus pocketed his cell as he turned to face her. “How is that?”

Jocelyn twisted her phone toward Magnus. On the screen was an image of Alec’s cubby at the arena with the pride flag hanging next to his jersey. “Instagram and Twitter. For someone who doesn’t know you, they’d never make the connection. But I see you in every picture he takes even though you’re not in any of them.”

Just like Alec was in every brushstroke of those orchids.

Magnus smiled. “I suppose we’re both finding ways to open up.”

 

****

 

Alec tipped his face up to the morning sun, then said his goodbyes to Danny as he and Magnus headed out for coffee. Both of them had to go to work, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t spend some time together first.

“I would hold your hand,” Magnus said as they walked down the sidewalk. “But I have the feeling you may be more recognizable in this area.”

Alec grinned and brushed his fingers against Magnus’, toying with his rings regardless of the warning. “Why is that?”

“Oh, you’ll see in another block or two. It is rather”—Magnus waved his other hand and smirked—“large.”

Alec groaned. “Oh god, it’s not one of my billboards is it?”

“Your vitamin water one,” Magnus confirmed. “I would assert that they’d used Photoshop in addition to the contouring makeup they utilized during the shoot, but I had the live show last night under the bright arena lights.”

_The live show…._ That was one way to describe Magnus’ visit to the practice rink last night after his session with Jocelyn. He’d wondered if Magnus’ flirtation over text was merely a distraction, but as soon as Magnus had set foot into the rink, he’d seen the renewed lightness to Magnus’ steps.

They’d finished exactly what Magnus had started yesterday morning, then, more importantly, they’d talked— _really_ talked.

It was a toss-up which of those made Alec fall deeper in love with Magnus.

That it was likely Magnus opening up to him, more than the sex, made him fall even more.

“Your abs really are that defined,” Magnus continued, oblivious to Alec’s lovestruck inner monologue. “Maybe I should drink more vitamin water.”

Alec couldn’t hold back his blush. “Stop it.”

Magnus chuckled and playfully bumped his hip against Alec’s.

“You really don’t need it,” Alec said seriously. “Maybe I should have Lydia include you in my next endorsement contract. Your abs may be even more impressive than mine supposedly are.”

Magnus tipped his head as if he were considering that. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Wait,” Alec backtracked with a mock scowl. “Nevermind. I want to keep them all to myself.”

“If you insist, Alexander.”

Alec ignored his billboard when it did finally come into view, and, thankfully, Magnus did too. Then Magnus stopped in front of a faded exterior and held open the door. “Here we are.”

Alec ducked inside and caught eyes with the bartender. “Anywhere?”

The bartender barely looked up as he waved in a vague direction, so Alec took one of the booths at the edge of the room and dropped his duffel bag to the floor before sitting down.

He scanned the interior of the bar and the cracked leather groaned underneath him as he sat back. “I like this place.”

“I figured you would.”

He gestured around the dingy interior, surprised. “It’s just not a place I’d expect you to know about.”

“I didn’t, until Ragnor dragged me in here….”

Alec raised an eyebrow.

“…the day after you broke up with me.”

_Oh_.

He furrowed his brow. “Then why—”

“Why would I want to come back here? Isabelle told me that your favorite part of Gramercy is the seedy bar around the corner. I wanted you to have a place like that here too. I don’t know, I suppose I see the allure. There’s no pressure to be someone you’re not. And there’s…history here.”

An acknowledgement of the past that Magnus was working hard to incorporate in a healthier way into his present. After their talk last night, Alec saw that clearly.

“A history that already includes us,” Alec said. “But that we can continue to write in a new way.”

Magnus smiled easily. “That too.”

“It seems like it’s easier for you to talk about all of…that. Me breaking up with you.”

“We’re together,” Magnus said with a graceful shrug.

“And I’m not going anywhere,” Alec reassured him, even though he was even more sure Magnus truly believed that now.

“I know you aren’t. And neither am I.”

The bartender sullenly dropped two cups of coffee in front of them, completely unsolicited, as well as two menus, then walked away without a word.

Alec grinned. He really loved this place already.

Almost as much as he loved Magnus.

“About the future,” Magnus started. He gripped his coffee cup in both hands. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Go for it.”

“Raphael officially invited me to buy into Pandemonium, and Imogen…. She’s hinting that I should weed through my portfolio again and focus on newer, high-level clients. I think she may even be grooming me for a promotion.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“I have. The problem is, I don’t know if I want it. If I want to pursue _either_ opportunity, frankly. I think I may want take some time away from IE and decide what I want to do next.”

Alec tried to piece together what that meant. “Like a vacation?”

“Longer,” Magnus replied. “Months maybe.”

Alec furrowed his brow.

“Of course that means I’d be free to travel with you if you wanted me to, or be available if you do have that corrective procedure on your knee, but that’s not exactly why I want to do it. Not entirely. I need—”

Now Alec understood. “You need an off-season.”

Magnus nodded. “Formally, it’s called a sabbatical, but yes, an off season. Time for me to be sure.”

“About?”

“About the possibility of leaving IE and striking out on my own.”

Alec’s breath huffed out of him when he collapsed against the booth in shock. Leaving IE? He hadn’t seen that coming. “Wow.”

“It would be a massive change,” Magnus acknowledged. He tapped his rings against the ceramic cup nervously.

“It would be a big change,” Alec said. He reached across the table and set his hand on Magnus’ arm. “And you’d make it a success.”

Magnus chuckled softly. “You have to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

Alec rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you before I said anything to Imogen. Hear what you thought.”

“Go for it. Really.”

“I will then.”

“Are you going to talk to Jace about it?”

“He and I have a meeting with Susanna today to discuss his contract. If that looks like it’s going to be finalized, then I’ll talk to him before Imogen.”

Magnus picked up one of the menus and began to peruse it, but Alec wasn’t quite ready to move on.

He leaned forward and looked Magnus in the eyes. “Does this have anything to do with Siti and your biological father?”

Magnus sighed and set the menu aside. “Nothing and yet absolutely everything. If I do open my own agency, I’ll focus solely on traditionally disenfranchised clients. And my biological father…. When he dies, he’s leaving behind a legacy of pain. I don’t know if this idea is a misplaced need to bring more positivity into the universe when I claim him as my father, or to prove I’m nothing like him. Maybe both.”

“Or that you’re just a good person who’s driven to succeed _and_ help.”

 Magnus smiled. “Maybe.”

Alec let that slide. He knew Magnus was beginning to see himself more like Alec saw him. He sprinkled some sugar into his coffee, took a sip, and relaxed back into the booth. “You seem…lighter than you have in the last few days.”

“I feel lighter.”

“Hey!” a voice yelled as the front door of the bar banged open.

Alec whipped his head around only to find Max standing there.

Max flopped his arms out in frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked to come here?”

Alec shook his head and looked at Magnus. “Is he tracking us or something?”

“No,” Magnus said with a laugh. “I ran into him when you were already down in the lobby talking to Danny. I told him to give us some time to talk then you two could have breakfast while I headed off to work. Apparently, our time is up.”

“Hey, Pete,” Max called out to the man behind the bar.

The bartender looked up from the TV. “The usual?”

“Sure, why not.”

Max slumped down next to Magnus and narrowed his eyes at Alec. He pointed at Alec’s right arm. “What is that?”

Alec self-consciously tugged at his shirt to pull the rolled sleeves down to his wrists. “Ice burn from practice.”

“Practice. Right. Your gear covers every inch of skin.” He shifted to look at Magnus. “You gotta stop fucking my brother on the ice.”

Magnus smirked and glanced at Alec. “Well, technically—”

“OH. MY. GOD,” Max yelled. “I was totally making a joke. You did that, though, didn’t you? Hold up.” He grinned and started to cackle. “You fucked on _Simon’s_ ice?”

“I have to get to work,” Magnus said, coaxing Max out of his seat with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t leave me here with him,” Alec begged even as Magnus leaned in for a kiss. In less than a breath, Magnus was already halfway to the door. “Dammit, Magnus!”

Magnus blew a kiss over his shoulder and left the bar, a smirk planted on his lips.

“At least Pete loves me,” Max said to the bartender, setting a hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream, in front of Max.

Pete rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his grim features. “You want to do breakfast?”

Max pointed across the table. “As long as he’s paying. You owe me, Alec.”

“I know I do.” Alec tipped his head at his brother. “Go ahead.”

When they had their orders in, Alec held onto his refreshed coffee cup and leaned forward. “So I’m all set for tonight then?”

“Yep. And I’m not even going to demand an invite.”

“Max. You know I would, but—”

“I know, I know. I’m just yanking your chain. Magnus deserves a night like this. I never would have done anything like this for Raj, FYI.”

Alec sighed. He and Max hadn’t really talked since the night of the game, so he should’ve expected this. “Way to broach that subject subtly.”

“I’m glad you brought him up, Alec,” Max said cheekily. “So since we’re talking about him already, Izzy wants to know how you want us to handle it if we run into him without you around. We’d both decided to handle it like mature adults for your and Magnus’ sakes, but after what his fiancée did Monday…?”

“I know how to handle him, because it’s all about beating him on the ice. I don’t give a fuck what he’s doing outside the arena. I can’t tell you what to do besides please don’t punch him.”

Max huffed. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“And please don’t start a scene,” Alec amended.

“Well”—Max smoothed out his napkin and picked up his fork— “there goes plans A through X.”

Alec stared at his brother. “That’s twenty-four— You have to be—”

He cut himself off and waved that all away. Max was exactly the type of person to concoct twenty-six different plans, in detail, and note them all in his phone under the heading _My Evil Agenda_. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“I should probably scratch Plan Y too, come to think of it. It’s so _Mean Girls_ and Magnus would’ve had a ball with it, but—”

“Max.”

“Plan Z it is.”

Alec paused, thought about asking, then came to his senses again. “Nope. I really don’t want to know.”

Pete reappeared with plates in hand that he unceremoniously dumped on the table with rolls of silverware, then walked away.

Max picked up the hot sauce and poured it over his eggs. “Maybe I’d be even more creative if I had experience with an ex to fall back on. You’re lucky I don’t.”

Alec thought back, trying to remember even one person he’d heard about Max dating for longer than a few weeks. “You really don’t, do you?”

“Nope. Maybe that’s because I don’t get what the big thing is about sex anyway.”

“You make more sex jokes than Magnus!” he protested.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know.”

“Wait.” Alec searched his brother’s face. There was a discomfort there he wasn’t used to associating with his ever-confident brother. “Really? Are you not interested in sex at all?”

“I’m not against other people having it. It’s just not important to me when I meet someone.” Max’s shoulders lifted with a deep inhale as he met Alec’s eyes. “Yes, at all.”

“As in…asexual?”

Max shook his head. “More like demisexual, I think. And I don’t know if the gender of the person really matters.” Before Alec could even think of how to react, Max was laughing. “Wow. Okay. I was _not_ planning on telling you that over a plate of scrambled eggs.”

Alec had to smile. His brother was amazing. “Thank you for trusting me with that, Max. I love you always.”

“You’re a sap,” Max chided with a roll of his eyes. “But I love you too.”

Max picked up his fork and started digging into his breakfast, so Alec followed his lead. But it took less than a minute before Max huffed and looked at Alec again. “Don’t you want to know why I haven’t talked to you about this before?”

Alec shook his head adamantly. “Definitely not.”

“Alec—”

“I’m serious, Max.” He pushed his plate aside and put all his attention on his brother. “This is a thing straight people will never be able to understand, even the allies who really do try, because they don’t have to look at the world the same way we do. There are secrets to be kept not because we want to live a lie. It has very little to do with a lack of honor or pride either, it’s figuring out a way to be ourselves in a world that, for the most part, doesn’t reflect us. And it’s safety, because some people will actively condemn us, or try to hurt us, and we never know who those people will be. You don’t owe me, or anyone, any explanations.”

Max’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t expect you to say anything else, but tell me what your real first thought was, not just what you knew I needed to hear.”

Alec chuckled. “It was, ‘Thank fuck. Finally, the non-straights dominate the Lightwood dinner table.’”

Max barked out a laugh and swiped at his eyes. “It was about time, wasn’t it?”

Alec reached across the table and ruffled Max’s hair. “Definitely.”

 

****

 

“Conflict of interest statements from myself and Alec,” Magnus said as he approached Imogen’s desk and laid the signed papers in front of her. “I’ll file them officially with HR if you approve.”

Imogen glanced at the stack and set it aside. “I’ll review them later, but I’m sure you’ve documented it all correctly. Have a seat.”

Magnus unbuttoned his suit coat and took the seat across from her. He held onto the one piece of paper he hadn’t given to Imogen, holding off until he knew whether it would be needed at all.

It was a Wednesday, the standing time he met with Imogen each week. But this meeting wouldn’t be business as usual.

Imogen just didn’t know that yet.

“Clary finalized the transfer of Alec’s files from me to Lydia, and Lydia and I are meeting today to formalize the switch.”

“And Alec’s contract is set as well?”

Magnus nodded. “Through all official channels.”

Imogen looked up from her paperwork then and set her forearms on the desk, leaning in. “Word of Alec’s contract is leaking out. Other agents are calling you the hockey player whisperer.”

That was just ludicrous. _And_ made absolutely no sense.

“It’s not the players I have to tame,” he pointed out. “It’s the executives. And trust me when I say I have no interest in doing so in the same way.”

“On that subject, Susanna called me after you left the arena. She’s impressed by you. If you want to make a shift to the sports department, I’ll back you up.”

“May I be perfectly honest?”

“Please do.”

Magnus couldn’t hesitate now. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Then we’ll let that topic sit for now,” Imogen said, returning to her paperwork and effectively dismissing him. “Come talk to me when you’re ready. My door is always open for you.”

“No, Imogen,” he pressed. His stomach tumbled. “I’m not being clear enough. I don’t know what I want the next step in my career to be, and I need to take some time to decide what will be best for me and IE.”

Imogen looked at him then. Really looked at him. He tried not to flinch under her scrutiny. “What are you saying?”

“I’d like to put in for a sabbatical. Eight weeks off, starting when Jace’s contract clears legal.”

“That could be as early as tomorrow,” she noted.

“I’m aware.”

Imogen studied him for another silent moment, then sat back in her chair. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted. “Not fully. However, the last few months have forced me to see this business in a new light. The cultural shift to accept athletes outside the status quo and to diversify talent across all entertainment and artistic platforms isn’t happening fast enough. I have the power to help change that.”

“How?”

“That”—Magnus twisted his wrist with a flourish to accentuate his meaning—“is what I don’t fully know yet.”

“Very well. Then we can discuss your ideas when you come back from your sabbatical.”

Magnus took a deep breath.

This was the part he’d known would be the hardest, but he had to do it. Imogen had given him this chance, but he’d fulfilled his obligations, real and metaphorical, to her years ago. This was something he owed to himself.

“I can’t promise that I am coming back, Imogen.”

Imogen didn’t even flinch. “I’d like you to consider spending your sabbatical figuring out how you could make your ideas happen within the framework of IE. On your return, I’d need strategic plans, workplans, and draft budgets that are actionable without constraining your overall objective. We’ll decide then what’s feasible and either move forward or part ways. Amicably, of course.”

Magnus was stunned.  He hadn’t thought to consider Imogen would want to expand IE’s reach in this manner.

His answer was simple. “I can operate within those parameters.”

“Then take twelve weeks,” she replied. “I assume the other document in your hand is a plan for management of your clients while you’re away?”

Magnus placed the piece of paper on her desk. “It was a resignation letter in the event you didn’t approve of my plans.”

Imogen hadn’t appeared flustered once since he’d walked in her door. She did now. “This sabbatical isn’t solely about your career trajectory.”

“It’s not, but we don’t need to discuss that now. If you’re willing to meet with me outside office hours, I’d like to discuss an issue that’s arisen in Indonesia.”

Imogen’s features softened. She stood, shut her door, then sat down in the seat next to him. “We can talk now.”

Magnus took a deep breath and launched into it. Imogen may have been out of her original career field for years now, but her connections and intelligence for the complexities of immigration-related issues hadn’t diminished.  Magnus left her office with the number of a staff member at the US Embassy in Indonesia who could assist him, a torn-up resignation letter, an approval for a twelve-week sabbatical, and her faith in him.

In a whirlwind four days he’d made significant progress in righting himself again, and all it had taken was him opening up—venturing out from behind his walls and asking for help. Steps he would’ve been unwilling, and possibly unable, to take before Alec.

He filled his time on the train back to Brooklyn drawing up a client management plan for his time away, and was barely inside the apartment door before Alec was calling out, “How did it go with Imogen?”

The sound of Alec’s voice was enough to make all his worries fall away, then Alec walked out of the bedroom and Magnus found himself smiling for the first time since this morning.

“Come here,” he beckoned.

Alec grinned and crossed the room. He wrapped an arm around Magnus’ waist and drew him in for a kiss. “It went okay, right?”

“It did. Once Jace’s contract is signed, I’m going to take a twelve-week sabbatical. And the Angels’ legal department is already drawing up his contract, so I could be on leave by the end of the week.”

“Is that a relief, or…?”

“It is a relief.”

Alec’s smile widened. “We’ll have an off season together.”

“I thought you didn’t have an off season due to an opinionated Russian?”

Alec shrugged and kissed his forehead. “Maybe this year will be different.”

Magnus absolutely melted into Alec’s arms at that, resting his head on Alec’s shoulder and breathing in the fresh scent of Magnus’ soap on his skin.

He had a feeling that _every_ season was going to be different from now on.

“Fuck,” Alec swore and wrapped Magnus up completely. “Look, I know it’s been a stressful few days and I haven’t been there for you like I would if it wasn’t for the finals. I’m sorry.”

Magnus kissed his neck. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

“What about if I want to apologize with martinis and the newest Tom Ford nail polish colors? I mean nail _lacquer_ , the saleswoman was adamant about that distinction.”

Alec could probably already feel Magnus’ smile against his skin, but Magnus stepped back anyway and situated a petulant frown onto his face. “Maybe I am a little upset.”

Alec chuckled. “Kick off your shoes and sit down. I’ll get the martinis.”

Magnus slipped off his suit coat and shoes then headed directly for the couch. When he was settled against his favorite pillow with Chairman tucked into his side, he shifted to watch Alec mix drinks in the kitchen. “Did you know your brother showed up at my office once under the guise of doing my nails? But all he really wanted to do was talk.”

“I don’t have any ulterior motives besides helping you relax.” Alec sauntered across the room, drinks in hand and a Tom Ford bag hanging around his wrist. “Just sit back, undo a few buttons, drink up, and I’ll try not to get nail lacquer everywhere.”

“You know,” Magnus mused as Alec handed a martini over then sat down on the coffee table. “You wouldn’t have to worry about lacquer mishaps if you did this naked.”

“Is that so?” Alec deadpanned.

“I’m merely safeguarding your wardrobe.”

“You, Magnus Bane”—Alec leaned over and popped open a few of the buttons on Magnus dress shirt—“are absolutely shameless.”

Magnus met his lips and smiled through every lingering second of the kiss.

“Now stop hitting on me and relax,” Alec stated, gently pushing Magnus back against the couch. “You already have a one hundred percent chance of getting me naked in bed tonight.”

Magnus sighed with sheer contentment. “This day just gets better and better.”

He opted for a deep red shade that was nearly black, and it became apparent within minutes that Alec’s nail polish skills were considerably less accurate than Max’s, but Alec put all of his focus into fixing his mistakes and ensuring he didn’t repeat them. Magnus couldn’t help but note that Alec’s approach was so much like how he handled his daily life, his job….

And Magnus’ heart.

Magnus’ hand rested on one of Alec’s as Alec worked, and Magnus focused on that sole point of physical contact. On the warmth of skin against skin and the calm surety of Alec’s hold on him. He catalogued every brush of Alec’s fingertips along his wrist, and truly relaxed when he stopped trying to hold his hand in place and simply let Alec take care of him.

“Thank you, Alexander.”

“You’re welcome,” Alec said as he capped the bottle. He glanced at the clock. “So what do you want to do for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’m freshly manicured, still relatively dressed up, and there are hundreds of places we could go within a few blocks…. But I think I’d rather stay in.”

“I was hoping you’d say that, because I already ordered dinner.” Alec slid a hand across Magnus’ shirt and over his shoulder as he stood. “But keep this on. You look hot.”

“As you wish.”

He sank farther into the cushions and basked in the quiet contentment infusing him from the tips of his glossed fingernails to the handcrafted martini warming his belly. Alec puttered around the apartment, picking up, and Chairman trotted behind him every step of the way.

It felt like a perfectly ordinary Wednesday night, but Magnus tucked away each second, burning it into his memory for safekeeping.

A knock echoed through the loft, and Alec, currently hanging up shirts from the dry cleaner in their bedroom, called out, “Do you mind getting that? It’s probably the food.”

“If it’s Max on the other side of that door, I’m sending him home.”

Alec’s laugh filled the apartment. “Deal.”

Magnus pried himself off the couch, opened the door, and his jaw hit the floor.

 

****

 

Alec rested a shoulder against the bedroom door and watched as Magnus swung the front door open. Shock spread across Magnus’ face at the group congregated in the hallway and Alec had to smile.

“What are you all doing here?” Magnus said in disbelief.

“We brought dinner!” Tessa exclaimed as she thrusted a covered dish towards him. “Although Alec is the one who ordered it. We’re merely your humble delivery staff.”

“My company is my gift to you,” Will stated as he slapped Magnus on the back and entered the loft.

“So of course, I brought wine,” Jem added, hoisting two massive bags. “Many, many bottles of wine.”

Magnus laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve always been my favorite.”

Alec stepped into the fray then, greeting all their guests—Tessa, Will, and Jem, followed by Raphael, Ragnor, Dot and her husband Jerry, capped off with a warm embrace by Cat as she swept inside.

“You really had no idea we were coming tonight?” Cat asked Magnus.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that I was set up,” Magnus stated, pointedly looking at Alec.

Alec brushed a kiss across Magnus’ cheek as he passed by, his arms laden with food. “What was your first clue?”

He made his way into the kitchen to start setting up the food, an overabundance of all of Magnus’ favorites from the Spanish place down the road. Magnus was already at the bar, mixing drinks, uncorking wine, and engaged in at least four different conversations that swirled around him.

Outside of when it was just the two of them, it was the most carefree he’d seen Magnus in weeks.

He smiled and took a moment to watch Magnus as he interacted with his closest friends. Magnus had rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscled forearms circled by thin bands of silver on each wrist. With his suit jacket gone, Alec had a much better view of Magnus’ broad shoulders, shifting in a tantalizing roll as he emphasized his words with fluid arcs of his hand.

And Magnus’ ass? Alec bit back a groan—

“How can I help?” Dot asked as she stepped up next to him.

Alec hoped his beard was thick enough to cover his blush since she’d _definitely_ caught him staring.

He ripped his gaze away from Magnus with a self-conscious chuckle and cleared his throat. “Do you prefer food prep or manual labor?”

“Put me to work,” she answered with the surety of a decisive executive and the bluntness all Magnus’ friends seemed to possess. “You don’t want Jerry or me in the kitchen. Both of us survive off take out because of long hours.”

He laughed. “This is take out.”

“We’ll find a way to mess anything up that’s not eaten straight from the box.”

“How about setting up the table then?”

“I’m on it,” Dot responded.

While Dot marshaled her husband and Ragnor into unfolding and securing the large, temporary table he’d rented to fit all of them for tonight, Alec focused on plating dinner again until he felt an arm slide around his waist.

Magnus grinned up at him. “A new dining room table? It doesn’t look nearly as…sturdy as needed for regular use.”

“First of all, we don’t have an actual dining room. Second”—Alec chuckled and glanced at Magnus—“I don’t think our definition of ‘regular use’ is the same as everyone else’s.”

Magnus smirked and tipped his head as if conceding that point to Alec.

“It’s a rental,” Alec explained. “Max and Danny ran a few errands for me today while I was at practice.”

“Exactly how long have you been planning this?”

“Mentally, for about a month,” he admitted. “But in reality, pretty much thirty-six hours.”

Magnus plucked the spoon out of Alec’s hand and set it aside, then pressed in close. “You may be an even better party planner than I.”

Alec’s heart skipped a beat at Magnus’ proximity. He shrugged. “There’s no confetti cannons or VIP service.”

“This is perfect, Alexander.”

Alec’s lips tingled long after Magnus had rejoined his friends to finish setting the table.

When he finally had the chance to sit down next to Magnus, everyone was already seated with their plates full and lively conversation filling the loft. Magnus slid his hand onto Alec’s thigh without missing a beat in his discussion with Raphael, and Alec turned toward the one person in the room he knew the least.

“What do you do, Jerry?” he asked Dot’s husband.

“I’m an international tour manager now.” Jerry smirked. “But I met Magnus when I managed a drag club.”

Alec blinked. Swallowed roughly. The images swirling through his head were nothing that he’d ever thought would turn him on, but, well…. Here he was.

He’d thought Magnus was completely wrapped up in his own conversation, but he glanced at Magnus, only to find him smiling at Jerry. “That was a memorable year.”

Jerry leaned back in his chair and guffawed. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Were you—?” Alec croaked out as he looked to Magnus. “Did you…perform?”

Magnus smiled slyly and shook his head. “I merely assisted in the makeup department, darling.”

“Except for that one time Lacey Wunderz had the flu,” Will said with a wink.

Magnus glared at Will and Alec gathered himself together again so he could motion over Magnus’ shoulder for Will to text him pics.

“Already on it, Alec,” Jem piped in with his cell in his hand. “But I can’t remember what name he performed under that night.”

“Search our photos for Sashay Fierce,” Tessa supplied.

“Of course.”

“It was _Miss_ Sashay Fierce,” Magnus corrected. “I was unattached at the time.”

“If I remember correctly,” Ragnor jumped in. “You had at least a dozen marriage proposals waiting for you backstage after your performance.”

“None of which he accepted,” Dot said. “To the eternal, and fruitless, hope of half the clientele.”

Jerry laughed. “Miss Sashay was our most requested performer until the day Dot and I left New York. But, alas, she never graced the stage again.”

Magnus sighed wistfully. “A limited engagement of one night in a lifetime.”

Alec heard his cell ping from across the loft and he looked at Jem, raising an eyebrow.

Jem smiled. “You may want to look at that text from me _after_ we’ve all left tonight.”

Alec didn’t know any of these people like Magnus did, and—with the exception of Raphael—they barely knew him, but he’d never felt as comfortable so quickly in a group of relative strangers.

He sat back in his chair, his knee bumping up against Magnus’ and shrugged. “I don’t think I have to see that picture to know I’d buy out an entire theater for a personal performance.”

Magnus’ eyes widened and he had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep the sip he’d just taken of his drink from spewing all over the table.

Alec grinned. He loved that he could still surprise Magnus.

“That’s entirely too much information, Lightwood,” Ragnor said with a scowl.

Magnus had effortlessly pulled himself back together when he caught Ragnor’s eye. “Alec can’t help but tell you what he’s really thinking, Ragnor. He is just as forthright as you are. And”—Magnus preened—“I am _impossibly_ irresistible.”

He really was. Alec had to lean over and kiss Magnus on the cheek.

“I suppose it was about time Alec and I spent time together outside of an intervention,” Ragnor said. “Raphael says you’re tolerable.”

Raphael studied Alec as he sipped his wine. “I said he’s tolerable _some_ of the time.”

“I’ll remember that in practice tomorrow,” Alec promised.

Raphael smirked.

“Speaking of your and Cat’s meddling,” Magnus said to Ragnor. “I never did ask how you two managed to make it into one of the most secure buildings in New York City. I’m assuming it had something to do with the no-longer-single Luke Garroway?”

Cat grinned. “I texted Izzy and we decided we couldn’t deal with the two of you being broken up anymore. So she called Luke.”

“What?” Tessa gasped. “When did you break up?”

“Ancient history,” Magnus dismissed. “Alec and I both came to our senses at just the right time. So where is your new beau tonight, dearest Catarina?”

“He’ll be here. He just had a meeting he couldn’t cancel last minute.”

“Maybe he would’ve been able to if these two”—Ragnor pointed his fork between Cat and Alec—“hadn’t gone back and forth on our text thread about whether to invite him or not since tonight was all about you.”

“I thought tonight was all about me,” Will said.

Tessa refilled Will’s wine glass. “Everything is about you all the time, Will.”

“Excellent,” Will replied and dug back into his food.

“So Raphael invited Luke,” Ragnor continued.

Raphael shrugged. “If my home is going to be invaded, then so is yours.”

“You needed that invasion,” Ragnor insisted. “My god, who pays that much for one of the most coveted views in New York, then covers it up with blackout curtains?”

“You’ve never complained when you want to sleep in,” Raphael pointed out.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “I highly doubt Ragnor has ‘never’ complained.”

“Raphael is in a good mood,” Ragnor said. “Winning makes him view everything, including me, in a more charitable light.”

“So this is what Raphael looks like in a good mood?” Alec teased.

“You and me, Lightwood,” Raphael said, his eyes narrowing. “On the ice, tomorrow.”

“Don’t maim each other in practice,” Ragnor chided. “You only have three more wins—” Raphael shut Ragnor down with a death glare, and Ragnor huffed. “I’m not allowed to speak about the inevitability of acquiring a certain overly-large-drinkware-related thing until it actually happens.”

“I am…well-acquainted with hockey-based superstitions,” Magnus said with a smirk. “There are some I enjoy much more than others.”

Alec scratched at his beard to cover up his smile.

“Ignore his flirtation, Lightwood,” Ragnor said. “He uses it to gain what he wants. And in some cases, you need to be prepared to tell him no.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Ragnor leaned forward and stared into Alec’s eyes, intent. “ _Never_ allow Magnus inside a karaoke bar.”

Around everyone’s sudden outburst of laughter and the inevitable stories, it became impossible for Alec to follow every thread of conversation after that. So Alec sat back and draped his arm over the back of Magnus’ chair, listening and laughing.

When Luke appeared at their door an hour later, half the wine bottles had been emptied, Raphael and Ragnor were bickering over music choices, Will, Dot, and Tessa were tangled together on a Twister mat while Jerry and Jem unabashedly rigged the spinner for each turn, and Alec’s cheeks and stomach ached from how much time he’d spent laughing.

Luke didn’t hesitate to grab Cat’s hand and jump into the Twister pile and Magnus snuggled up against Alec’s back, placing his chin on Alec’s shoulder as they watched.

“This is complete chaos,” Alec said to him.

Magnus chuckled and kissed Alec’s cheek. “Welcome to my family, Alexander.”

Alec grasped Magnus’ hand, holding on to him.

He wanted to hold onto this moment for forever.

 

****

 

Whatever the opposite of numb was, that was the sensation alighting Magnus right now. The wine mixed thoroughly in his bloodstream and meandered lazily through his veins, carrying him along like he’d been dropped into a canoe on a sunny summer day and was surrounded by the lulling lap of water and the taste of sweet air on his tongue.

He felt so warmly tethered to his senses and _alive_.

Except for his face. Certain parts of his face were definitely starting to go a bit numb from the sheer volume of wine he’d consumed in the last few hours.

“I’m getting too old to do parties like this mid-week,” Magnus opined as he picked at the last tidbits of Iberian ham. “I’m going to have to avoid your cousin all day tomorrow.”

“The great Magnus Bane really is settling down, then. It’s barely nine pm,” Will pointed out, glancing at his watch. He swiveled on the barstool to watch the game of Exploding Kittens dominating everyone else’s attention—even Chairman, who sat by the windows swishing his tail disapprovingly like he knew the title of the game. “Your boyfriend seems sober.”

“He, Raphael, and Luke have only had a few drinks in total since they have a game tomorrow. Elite athletes and all.”

“Cheers to professions that allow us to imbibe to our heart’s content,” Will said as he lifted his glass.

Magnus clinked his glass against Will’s, took a sip, then set his forearms on the counter. “Did you know that the first time Alec and I were at a bar together, he threw a drink in my face?”

Will threw his head back with a rumbling laugh. “I have no doubt you deserved it.”

“You wound me, Herondale. I was an absolute gentleman that night, as I always am.”

Will side-eyed him.

“I may have acted in accordance with the deep denial of my attraction to him,” Magnus admitted.

“What was their name, then? The person you hooked up with at the bar?”

“Jessica. No, Jennifer. Jessica?” Magnus waved that conundrum away. “Regardless, Alec was just as deeply mired in denial. I learned that evening that my mascara isn’t gin-proof.”

Will gave one of his brilliant smiles, a rarity that only those closest to him saw. “He’s good for you, Magnus.”

It made him happy in an unexpected way to hear his friends say that. While their approval, or disapproval, had never influenced his romantic relationships, he found he wanted them to see Alec the way he did.

Tonight had definitely gone a long way to cementing his vital relationships into an even stronger bond.

“He is,” Magnus agreed. He met Will’s eyes and felt a mischievous smirk pulling at his lips. “And I owe him a drink to the face.”

Will stood. “I’ll get the gin.”

“Alec?” Magnus called out. When Alec looked up at him, Magnus schooled his features. “May I have a word, please?”

Alec narrowed his eyes at Magnus for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. I’m out of the game anyway.”

Magnus tapped his fingernails against the counter, trying to think of some mock offense to launch into for full effect, but he couldn’t scheme _and_ keep his features under control at the same time. Then Will rejoined him, thunking a tumbler of gin down in front of him.

Alec stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked at the glass, then Will, then Magnus, and finally pointed at him. “No, Magnus.”

Magnus restrained a laugh. Barely. “What? I’m innocent.”

He picked up the glass, swishing the contents as he sashayed around the kitchen island.

“You’re anything _but_ innocent,” Alec contended with a laugh. “What’s the exact opposite of innocent? You’re definitely…that. Whatever that is.”

“Devilish,” Tessa called out.

“Evil,” Raphael offered.

“Sinful?” Magnus suggested himself.

Alec’s teeth bit into his lips as he held back a grin. “Definitely.”

“What exactly is going on here?” Dot asked. “I mean, besides the obvious sexual tension.”

Magnus took a step closer to Alec and Alec raised his hands and stepped backwards. Magnus smiled. This was even more fun than he’d expected.

“About two months ago,” Magnus explained, “Alec incurred a gin-related debt. And tonight I’m just tipsy enough to seek repayment.”

“This is Will’s fault somehow,” Jem said.

Will shrugged. “I’m merely the enabler. I poured the gin.”

Alec locked eyes with Magnus, and his tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he tried not to smile. “I can’t believe you’re going to go through with this.”

“I told you I would.”

And Alec knew Magnus always fulfilled his promises.

“Fuck,” Alec swore as he laughed. “Please don’t?”

“Twenty dollars says there’s no way Magnus will do it,” Ragnor said. “Look at Alec’s puppy dog eyes.”

He slipped a twenty on the coffee table and glanced around, silently inviting everyone to join in.

“I’ve seen Magnus in a negotiation,” Luke said, laying a twenty to start a separate pile. “He has no problem pulling the trigger.”

One by one Cat, Will, Jem, Tessa, Dot, and Jerry placed their lots with either Luke or Ragnor, but Raphael just scoffed. “You’re all fools. They’re both ending up covered in gin.”

Raphael placed a twenty in his own separate stack and everyone turned to face them.

Alec cracked his neck and set his hands on his hips. “Well, they’re making bets on us. So, Bane…. Which is it gonna be?”

Alec narrowed his eyes as Magnus approached him slowly, glass in hand, but Alec didn’t cede an inch. Just as beautiful and fearless as he always was in front of the net.

Magnus smiled serenely, and when Alec didn’t make a run for it, he set his arms on Alec’s shoulders, hooking his hands behind Alec’s neck and pressing into him.

“Ragnor is right.” He kissed each of Alec’s cheeks in turn. “One look from you _can_ compel a granted wish from me.”

Alec rolled his eyes.

Magnus smirked. “But Luke was right too. I don’t have any hesitation attacking when provoked.”

Alec stiffened under his arms. “And Raphael?”

“He was wrong.”

Alec relaxed just enough for Magnus to get a solid grip on the tumbler. “Our friends aren’t fools.”

Alec’s eyes widened in understanding, but before he could extract himself from Magnus’ hold, Magnus had dumped the entire contents of the glass over both of them.

Alec’s responding laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. “You did that just to get me naked.”

Magnus flicked his tongue out to lick some gin off Alec’s neck, then nipped his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

Alec chuckled and grabbed Magnus’ hand, leading him toward the bathroom. Magnus swiped his other hand through his gin-soaked hair and peeked over his shoulder at his friends reluctantly handing over their cash to Raphael. “We’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Alec fisted his hands in Magnus’ dress shirt and pushed him up against the wall. “I have a problem.”

“You do?” Magnus said. His heartbeat sped.

“I hate the taste of gin.” Alec’s gaze darted to Magnus’ lips. “But I crave the taste of you.”

“Then come closer and let me lick all of it off your lips.”

Alec leaned in closer. “If we didn’t have guests outside that door, I’d strip down and beg you to lick every drop off me.”

“I assure you, Alexander. You wouldn’t have to beg.”

He pulled up the hem of Alec’s shirt and dipped his fingers below Alec’s waistband.

Alec closed his eyes, sucked in a breath, then licked his lips. “Fuck, Magnus. I swear this is all some devilish, evil, sinful plan to make me learn to love gin.”

Magnus chuckled and dug his fingers in. “My master plan is working then. Now, procure me some of your clothes and let’s go out and coax our guests into leaving as soon as possible.”

Alec grinned. “I’ll have them gone in five minutes.”

He slipped out of the bathroom and Magnus began the laborious task of removing his smeared makeup and drying out his hair. There were very few people he’d be willing to go au natural in front of, but luckily all of them were currently in his living room. Alec returned with clothes in hand moments later, and a smile on his lips. “I like your friends.”

Magnus met Alec’s eyes in the mirror. “They like you too.”

“Maybe some of your impossibly irresistible charm is rubbing off on me.”

Alec had set him up for a perfectly timed innuendo, but Magnus couldn’t. He set down his brush and turned to face Alec. “With the way this week started…. Tonight was exactly what I needed, Alexander. Thank you.”

Alec leaned in and kissed him softly. “Anything for you.”

Redressed in sweatpants and the shirt Alec had worn for Media Day, Magnus rolled up the sleeves and prepared to politely banish their guests. He didn’t plan to keep this set of clothes on for long.

Alec slid his hand along Magnus’ lower back as they exited the bathroom, then pushed up the sleeves of his Angels’ sweatshirt as he headed for the kitchen, likely to begin working on the mounds of dirty dishes. Magnus made his way into the living room, but his steps slowed, and his heartbeat fluttered into an unsteady patter as he took in the deep frown on Luke’s face and Cat sitting next to him, peering at his phone and whispering.

Both of their heads snapped up at his entrance, and Cat said his name, then a cascade of pings filled the room. He sought out Alec despite the screen of his cell flashing bright from the side table where he’d abandoned it hours ago. His stomach lurched with dread at the stricken look on Alec’s face as he turned his cell to face Magnus so he could read the message Izzy had just sent them both.

 

TURN ON ESPN NOW

 

Magnus’ heart pounded as he crossed the room and picked up the remote, clicking on the TV. He didn’t have to consult the on-screen guide to find ESPN, he had every sports channel memorized by now.

“Holy shit,” someone said.

But Magnus had no idea who had spoken. He was transfixed to the live image of Alec’s ex sitting next to his coach, and the crawler at the bottom of the screen that read— _Raj Bhandari: “I’m Gay”_

Magnus struggled to find his breath as he looked to Alec.

Alec met his eyes, his brow furrowing. “What. The. Hell?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the hell, indeed.
> 
> for the raj fans out there, take a deep breath and remember that we haven’t heard one word come out of his own mouth yet in this fic. that changes in ch 22. like everything else in ITSB, there’s a whole lot of layers of complexities happening here, so give them time to unravel please.
> 
> for those of you who aren’t raj fans, there’s a whole lot of layers of complexities happening here. give them time to unravel please ;)
> 
> i’ve had a few people ask about ko-fi, so i started up a page [here](http://ko-fi.com/samcauley). if you want to contribute, cool. if you don’t want to, that’s cool too. i owe y’all the world for bringing my love of writing back to me and helping me through my darkest days last year (even though you probably didn’t know that’s what you were doing at all!) thank you.
> 
> as usual, you can find me on tumblr @otppurefuckingmagic or twitter @authorsamcauley (when i'm not deep in hiding).
> 
> only four chapters left ♡ xx


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